


Spiral Bound

by KitLlwynog



Category: Magical Diary
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Boarding School, F/M, Fluff, I mean she is 16, I realize now that this doesn't quite qualify as slow burn, Implied Attempted Sexual Assault, Magic, Masturbation, Mentions of Suicide, Necromamcy, POV Alternating, Past Child Abuse, Sexual Content, Soul Bond, Teacher-Student Relationship, The Otherworld, but it is slower, oaths and vows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 78,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitLlwynog/pseuds/KitLlwynog
Summary: Hieronymous Grabiner has a strange dream, and it sparks a of chain events that upends his life, mostly for the better.Alternately, Sionnan Archer was a normal teenager until she was accepted to Iris Academy, a school for witches. What begins as an unrequited crush on a prickly teacher turns into an epic tale that spans the known worlds.





	1. The Darkest Day of the Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Winter Solstice, Professor Grabiner has a dream that leaves him shaken. Sionnan Archer is rescued from her abusive home, and is given unorthodox encouragement from the eccentric Headmistress.

December 21, 2015

Someone was crying. Not in a picturesque way, like a movie heroine, with silent tears sparkling as they slid down pale cheeks. It was a messy, ugly, human thing, all breathless sobbing and snot. But it affected him deeply, pulling on the heartstrings he didn't think he possessed, because he recognized the person behind it. He moved toward the sound, and he heard her choke out his name. “Hieronymus.”

He came awake all at once, gasping for air in the moonlight that leaked through the drapes. _Just a dream._ He told himself that, but Hieronymus Grabiner was not stupid. In the world of magic, coincidences were rare. There was no reason for him have dreamt such a thing. The last time he had seen Sionnan Archer, she had been smiling, leaving his Blue Magic class to head to the end of term address the Headmistress gave every year. She had wished him a happy Solstice, and he had made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement. 

But later that evening, he had felt a spell touch him, a gentle brush against his personal wards, and he recognized it as more of Petunia’s romantic nonsense. A heart-calling spell. For a moment he could hardly imagine who, among the students in attendance, would have wasted thirty seconds, or even five seconds, on affection for him. But his eyes flicked over to the windowsill where a green peppermint-scented votive candle stood out bravely against the stone and he knew. His brain wanted him to be angry, but his heart had other ideas. 

So, he thought with cynical resignation, Sionnan ought to be thrilled by the knowledge that she occupied some space in his thoughts, despite his better judgement. What then? _Normal_ dreams were just distorted reflections of the concerns of one’s daytime consciousness. Since he had no logical reason to worry about the well-being of the freshman class treasurer, it followed that the dream had _not_ been _normal._

For an accomplished wizard such as himself, it would be easy enough to ascertain the truth of things. He sat up in his bed and steadied his mind before tracing a shape in the air with his finger. _Reveal to me thy heart._ **Empathy.**

_What did I do this time? Please don't hit me again. I'm sorry! I don't know what you want! Someone help me! No one ever helps me._

It came out in a jumble: fear, sorrow, pain, resignation, all overlaid with a sense that it was deserved. That the bearer of these emotions was both unloved and unlovable. Grabiner cast a dispel with a shaking hand, but his expression was grim. He put on the first shirt that came to hand and swept his cloak around him before beginning the sigil for a long-distance teleport.

*********************

She was surprised, perhaps understandably, when he appeared in her bedroom. In fact, she gave a startled little scream before clapping her hand over her mouth. Her fair hair was a wild tangle and her face was streaked with tears. “Professor Grabiner!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking, and in her eyes was a combination of terror and hope. “What are you doing here?”

He took a deep breath. It was in his nature, as well as part of his job, to be curt with the students, to make them afraid of him, but right now he did not want her to be frightened because he needed the truth. Therefore, he kept his voice low and calm. “Miss Archer, please tell me what is going on here. You are obviously in some distress.”

“I…” she swallowed, and her gaze flicked to the closed door behind him. Whoever it was that might come through the door, they made Sionnan Archer very afraid. And that made Hieronymus Grabiner angry. He blew a sharp breath out through his nose and held his rage tightly inside himself.

“Never mind. Get your things together. We’re leaving.” She gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing in a fish-like manner. “Unless you would prefer to stay here?”

She shook her head, her eyes still wide with barely suppressed panic, but then, she pulled a battered duffel bag out from under her bed. Satisfied that she was willing to follow his advice, he turned his back to give her at least a semblance of privacy. His eyes roamed over the room. As a teacher at a boarding school, he thought he was passably acquainted with the usual appearance of the bedrooms of sixteen year old girls, but this one defied his expectations. It was sparse and cheerless, the walls bare and white, no posters, no pictures of friends. There weren't even any books. The only furniture present were a bed and dresser, and they were utilitarian in nature, completely devoid of anything displaying the personality of their owner. It didn't match at all with the intelligent, kind, and oft-smiling girl he knew from school. Perhaps it was only that most of her things were already at the Academy, but he suspected the true reason was more depressing.

“But, Professor,” her voice broke past his thoughts, still trembling somewhat. “How did you know I needed help? And why aren't you wearing any shoes?”

That was a very good question which he was unwilling to answer at present. His ears were hot. “That is not information you require, Miss Archer,” he snapped, and he could almost feel her working on a retort but then, the door slammed open.

 **“How many times have I told you to keep this god-damned door open?!** There are no closed doors in this house, young lady. You don't keep secrets from me.” The balding, red-faced man entered the room like a wild boar in full charge, and Sionnan cowered away, curling in on herself. The ember of fury in Grabiner’s gut flared, and he stepped into the man’s line of sight.

“Who the **hell** are you? What are you doing in my daughter’s room?” he growled, but Grabiner was not at all intimidated by this display. He could see the man’s thoughts plainly on his face, filled with suspicion and self-righteous fury, but also a bit of fear because he had walked into a situation he had not prepared for. He had expected a frightened rabbit, and was about to find it guarded by a badger.

“I am a teacher at your daughter’s school,” Grabiner intoned with all the dignity he could muster. He was aware that his outfit did not exactly lend itself to gravitas, but he also knew that his scowl could stop an elephant, so he relied on it heavily. “I've come to take her away from _this place,_ ” he said, not bothering to conceal the disgust he felt.

“What? You have no right to do that!” shouted the man that Grabiner could hardly believe was Sionnan’s father. “I'm not sending her back to that school. It's filled her head full of strange ideas.”

“There isn't anything you can do prevent her leaving, if she wishes to go,” Grabiner replied, his voice low and dangerous. He had a notion that independence and curiosity were enough to qualify as ‘strange ideas’ to this loathsome sort of person.

“What did you say?” The red-faced man took a step toward them. He was shorter than Grabiner by several inches, but he had the build of a rhinoceros and the stance of a person who was used to bullying those weaker than himself. There was no doubt that he thought the lanky and rumpled-looking professor would present little challenge. 

Grabiner was not in the mood. **“Don't,”** he snarled, and he held out his hand and cast a weak **Push.** The man staggered backward, but it seemed to only enrage him further. He bellowed and rushed forward. “Damn it to Hel,” Grabiner cursed, and then he teleported the irate man to the roof, before turning to his student, who was looking at him with undisguised awe. 

“Please tell me you are ready to go. As cathartic as it would be, the Headmistress would be annoyed if I stuffed him into his own chimney.”

Sionnan gave him a weak laugh, and though he would not have admitted it, this did wonders for easing the torment of his thoughts. “I'm ready,” she said in a small voice, after stuffing something orange and bedraggled-looking into the bag from her bed.

“Then come here.” He held open his cloak with one arm and she stepped into it somewhat tentatively. There was a faint flush on her cheeks that he pretended not to see as he put his arm around her shoulder and recast the teleport. 

By the time they returned to Iris Academy it was past one in the morning. Grabiner decided not to wake the Headmistress, partly because he was feeling too emotionally unbalanced to speak to her, and partly because he felt incapable of defending his actions when even he was unsure he'd done the right thing. Instead, he sat Sionnan down at his desk, and made a pot of tea because, even after all that had occurred, he was still British. 

By the time the tea was steeped, however, his student was sound asleep, draped over the chair like a forgotten afghan. He knew what he should do was shake her awake and escort her back to her dorm room, but he was exhausted. And who knew if she'd even remembered to pack her key, and Potsdam would likely want to speak to her and him first thing in the morning anyway. Everything was difficult and inconvenient. He could teleport her to bed, he supposed, but that seemed callous even for him. In the end, he picked her up and deposited her into his own bed, and then sat himself down in the chair she had just vacated to compose a message to the Headmistress.

**************************

The next morning, he awoke with a terrible crick in his neck, to the sound of humming. “Good morning, Hieronymus,” said the cheerful voice of Petunia Potsdam, and he groaned aloud. “You did have a busy night last night, didn't you? Teleporting halfway across the country on behalf of a student, and leaving a baffled mundane on his own roof without even putting on your shoes. I'm rather proud of you.”

He sat up in his desk chair, which was even more uncomfortable to sleep in than he remembered, and rolled his neck before looking at the Headmistress with his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I'm not entirely sure what I've done to deserve such praise, Petunia, but I hope you didn’t have much trouble with her parents.”

“I wiped their memories, Hieronymus. She won't be able to go back there again.” Both of their gazes traveled to the girl asleep in the bed. Potsdam sighed, but Grabiner scowled.

“Don't you think that was a bit rash? You should have left the decision to her.”

“You of all people should understand how difficult it is to truly cut oneself off from one’s parents, no matter how awful they are. Family loyalty is a powerful force. Besides, you don't really think she should go back there, do you?”

“No,” he said, much more fiercely than he intended. He had run a diagnostic spell on Sionnan the night before, just to check for injuries. There were bruises that should not have been there. He'd almost broken another teacup. 

“You see. You really agree with me, you just feel that you shouldn't. This is all for the best,” she said, with the knowing smile that he particularly detested. “But I came to talk about you, Hieronymus. You never did say why it was that you decided to fly out in the middle of the night and pick a fight with the parent of one of your students.”

He flushed. He did not want to tell Potsdam anything because she was terribly perceptive and had questionable ideas about proper behavior, but he also knew that she would pry it out of him whether he was willing or not. “I had a dream,” he answered shortly. “I feared that she needed help, and it turned out that I was correct.”

“You had a dream about her?” Petunia said with far too much interest. “Have you ever had a prescient dream before?”

“No,” he admitted with a sigh. “I believe you informed me that my third eye was too constipated to observe any psychic phenomena.”

“So I did,” she said with a merry chuckle. “You had a dream, and then you scried it, I suppose, and whatever you saw made you teleport all the way to Texas in half your clothes?”

“More or less,” he said gruffly. But she looked at him _expectantly_ , with a smile like a demon, and finally he could take no more. “If you must know, I used a long range empathy spell, and she was terrified, Petunia. I knew she was being harmed, and so I went. Are you going to lecture me now, because I guarantee you can think up nothing I have not already said to myself.”

“No, I'm delighted, Hieronymus. I'm tickled pink for you. I’ve never seen you care about anything this much since you arrived here. But I am wondering what you are going to do now?”

“Do?” he sputtered, knowing exactly what she was asking but refusing to acknowledge it. “I am going to continue teaching the way I always have. I have no other thing to be doing.”

“If you say so,” the Headmistress said in a sing-song voice that jangled his nerves. “I'd let her sleep as late as she wants today. But send her to my office whenever she does regain consciousness. We have a few things to discuss, after all.” He nodded in a somewhat distracted manner, though he felt that he perhaps should be frightened of what sorts of ideas Petunia might put into the girl’s head. 

The Headmistress left and Grabiner, as if pulled by an invisible thread, somewhat reluctantly went to stand by the side of the bed. He looked down on his student wearing a complicated expression. She was sleeping peacefully, and after the low-level healing spell he'd placed on her the night before, he didn't doubt she was comfortable. Her mouth was quirked in a little half-smile that made him want to smile back, and that made him want to snarl and give someone detention. Probably himself. 

However much he pretended, he knew exactly what Potsdam had been implying, and if he was being honest with himself, he knew she was correct. But no matter what she said, no matter how permissive wizard society was about such a thing, it could not be allowed to happen. He would not allow it. That is what he told himself, yet he could feel, in some long-forgotten part of his soul, the wheels of fate turning. There was a sense of potential behind his life now, like he was a boulder poised at the top of a mountain. All it would take was a breath of wind.

**********************

He got into the shower because he was tired and aching, and because the shower was his favorite place for thinking. The sound of the water was like a balm to his mind. When had things gotten so complicated? 

Certainly not at the start of term. He remembered it with a sort of exasperated fondness. She had collided with him in the courtyard, and he had given her ten demerits, using his snarliest voice and most implacable scowl. When they had parted ways, he was secure in the knowledge that she both feared and loathed him, just as he intended. Because that was his role at Iris Academy. All of the teachers had a role, and his was the Warden of the Tower. He existed to show the students what happened when magic was misused, to make them fear the abyss, so that they would stay on the straight and narrow path of safety. 

So he could not be like Petunia, all joy and frivolity. In many ways, she was both his partner and antithesis, existing to show the students the possibilities of magic, to inspire their curiosity and wonder. Together they shared the duties of teaching all incoming freshman, and made sure they were adequately prepared for more advanced classes. Hieronymus preferred teaching older students because he did not have to be so harsh with them, but he understood the importance of his place.

He had kept to it when he had received the ‘love’ letter during freshman initiation, and that hadn’t even been an act. It was the same thing every year, and it never ceased to be annoying and at least a little humiliating. Although, in point of fact, this had been a much stranger, and therefore, perhaps more sincere letter than what he normally received. When he looked back on the incident, he remembered the terror and embarrassment on Sionnan’s face and felt ashamed. But he had apologized for that. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but according to rumor, it had been extraordinarily out of character for him. Had that been the beginning of this madness?

No, he decided, because that had certainly been at the Dark Dance. Sionnan had arrived on the arm of Damien Ramsey, which he had taken as proof of her poor decision making skills. But they seemed to be nothing more than friends, so perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he had feared. 

In any case, they must have separated sometime during the evening. It was hard to tell how time was passing when swathed in darkness for hours on end, but Hieronymus had been feeling worn to a thread when a hauntingly familiar scent had wafted past. After ten years, he all but given up hope that Violet would be one of the spirits that came to partake of the Academy’s hospitality, but he would know that aroma anywhere. He followed after it, of course, unable to see where he was going, and blundered right into a slight feminine form. “Pardon me,” he had said briefly, and perhaps still under the enchantment of the phantom scent, he had continued, “Would you care to dance?”

The silent personage had placed one diminutive hand in his by way of reply, and off they had gone. This event was not romantic in nature, unlike the May Day Ball at the end of the year, but that did not mean that romance never occurred. There were other couples dancing to the haunting music of the unseen orchestra, but the conceit of the evening was, since you couldn’t see your partner, you could never be sure whether they were spirit or mortal. 

Of course, that was preposterous. He didn't even have to utilize magical skills to ascertain that his partner was a human girl and not a ghost. He could feel the pulse in her fingers through their joined hands. Once his temporary bewilderment wore off, that knowledge was enough to make him want to flee, but he knew that would only make him more suspicious and perhaps reveal his identity. So the only thing to do was to finish the dance, but it was extraordinarily difficult. 

It had been years since he had been this close to any other person, let alone a woman, and he found everything about it disconcerting. Her hair smelled like honey and vanilla, her fingers were slender and almost impossibly smooth and soft inside his own. His other hand rested lightly on her hip, and even through her clothes he could feel the curve of it. It was a combination of something familiar that he had nearly forgotten, and something wholly new that frightened him. He wanted to see her face, to look at her expression, and to know what she felt about this whole ridiculous situation, but on the other hand, he was quite glad he could not see her because he did not want to know who she was. The last thing he needed was to remember a confusing and embarrassing debacle every time he looked at one of his students. And he definitely did not want her to know who he was. It would completely ruin his reputation, which would make doing his job exceedingly difficult. Not to mention the fact that he had no desire to become the object of a teenaged girl’s wayward affections.

The dance ended and he released her with mingled relief and resignation. It was over. Then she spoke, just above a whisper. “Thank you for the dance.”

It had felt like being physically struck. Even back then, he had known her right away, and had only hoped that she hadn't known him. But she next time he saw her in class she had blushed and refused to meet his eyes. He had been particularly testy the rest of the week. And in his dreams, they danced again and again, no matter how much he tried to exhaust himself during the day. 

Petunia’s question bounced around his brain, a philosophical pinball of unease. What _was_ he going to do? He had told her that he intended for things to remain the same, and that was true. But Hieronymus Grabiner was well aware that intentions meant both everything and next to nothing in the magical world, especially when fate kept conspiring to put one in an untenable situation. He felt like a gambler who'd been forced to show his hand too early, revealing that he only held a pair of twos. 

He would try to keep his distance as long as he could. Eventually, he was sure she would tire of his prickly nature, and he could continue on with his wretched existence unaffected. She was only sixteen. 

*************************

Sionnan was still feeling confused and unsteady when she finally stood in front of the door to the Headmistress’s chamber. She’d awoken in an unfamiliar place, and would have felt terribly afraid, except the blankets around her smelled… familiar. Like ink and old books with a hint of cedar and smoke. The same as the cloak that had swept around her the night before, carrying her away from terror and despair and back to Iris Academy. 

When she realized she was lying in Professor Grabiner’s bed, her instincts told her to do two very different things. First, she wanted to bury her face in the covers and breathe in his scent as long as she could because obviously this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. But she equally desired to flee immediately because if she knew one thing about Hieronymus Grabiner, it was that he was a very private person, and the fact that she had intruded upon his sanctuary had likely put him in an even worse temper than usual. But she did neither of those things because while she was still mulling over her choices a voice spoke to her from across the room.

“Finally awake, Miss Archer?” came the voice of the man she had, since at least October, had a desperate crush on. He did not sound angry, which surprised her. She sat up in the bed and peered around the room. It was just as she might have expected. The furniture was old, made of heavy dark wood, and the decorations, if you could call them such, were sparse and haphazard. There were four bookshelves reaching from the floor to the ceiling, and they were all full, and even so, there were books on nearly every horizontal surface. Professor Grabiner was sitting in the midst of them, at an old-fashioned writing desk, once again wearing his school robes, but not his hat. His dark hair was still damp.

“Yes. I’m sorry for falling asleep, Professor. You could have woken me,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her. She wondered where he’d slept because she knew with absolute surety it hadn’t been near her.

“You obviously needed the rest, and it was less of a bother to let you sleep here than to escort you downstairs. However, you absolutely should not tell any of your little friends, as that would prove to be unpleasant for everyone,” he said with his usual scowl. That, at least, reassured her that she had not fallen into some bizarre alternate dimension wherein the Professor was a cheery and gentle person. 

“Well, thank you. For coming for me and everything.” She had thought, the night before when she had questioned him about his arrival, that she had seen Grabiner blush, but it had been dim in the room. She’d assumed she’d imagined it. But now, with his face lit by bright, midday sunlight, the flush stood out plainly against his pale skin. It was certainly an interesting reaction, and she didn't quite know what to make of it.

“It was nothing. Even I would not allow a student to be harmed through no fault of their own,” he said gruffly. She thought he seemed to be taking pains to neither look at her nor to speak loudly, which was unlike him. “In any case, the Headmistress wanted to speak with you once you woke, though I daresay she wouldn’t mind if you went and changed your clothes first. Your bag is in your room. If you hurry, you can still get lunch in the cafeteria.” He turned his back to her more fully, and she understood that was her cue to leave. 

She slipped out of the bed and picked up her shoes where they had been deposited on the floor and retrieved her glasses from the nightstand. She tried not to think about the fact that he had put her to bed himself. In his own bed, with his own hands. He could probably read her mind if he wanted to, and she was sure if he read those kind of thoughts, she would burst into flame from the simple force of his anger. “Thank you again,” she said quietly as she put her hand on the doorknob. From the desk she thought she heard a small sound of assent, and then she left.

It was less than a half our later that she knocked on Petunia Potsdam's door. It opened of its own volition and Sionnan stepped into a bright pink room that smelled of flowers. Not in the awful way that old women and perfume smelled of flowers, but gentle, fresh, and alive. “Good morning, Miss Archer. Or should I say, good afternoon? How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” she admitted as she approached the charming little tea table that was set by the window and sat across from the Headmistress.

“I imagine you are. I have no doubt that Hieronymus told you nothing this morning except to get out,” she said with a cheery laugh. 

“Pretty much,” she agreed, letting herself smile. “He was a lot less grumpy than I expected though. He didn’t even yell.”

“Of course he didn’t. After seeing what he saw last night, I’d be much surprised if he didn’t make a special effort not to raise his voice in your presence unless absolutely necessary. He has a temper, and can be very frightening on purpose when he feels the situation calls for it, but he is not, by nature, a cruel person.” Sionnan raised her eyebrows. Not because she disagreed. She had discerned quite early on that most of Professor Grabiner’s bad temper was there for show, but she stupidly hadn’t realized that this might be common knowledge to the other adults on campus. “In any case, I didn’t call you here to talk about Hieronymus, but about you. Are you hungry? Would you like some tea or coffee?”

“I stopped by the cafeteria on my way here, but coffee would be great.” It had only been recently that Sionnan had developed a taste for coffee, but she liked it for the caffeine rather than the taste. When she had been running for freshman class treasurer, Grabiner had commented on her sugar usage and prophesied an early death from diabetes. There was a part of her that delighted in emptying four sugar packets into her coffee right in front of him on the rare Saturdays when he came to assist with mail delivery. This morning as she sat with there Headmistress, she stirred her coffee, and smiled as she imagined his scowl.

“So, I’ve heard all about your home situation from Professor Grabiner, and, in case you were worried, I did rescue that man from the roof. Was he your father?”

“Stepfather,” she said with some bitterness. Her mother had remarried shortly before her fourth birthday. Sionnan had never had a good relationship with him, but it had mellowed some as she’d aged. He’d mostly stopped hitting her. At least, until she’d come home from Iris.

“Are you in contact with your biological father at all?” Potsdam asked, not unkindly.

“Not very often,” she said with a sigh. “And nothing since I came to school. There didn’t seem to be a point.”

“Well, you might think about trying to write him a letter, if you have a mind. There is no easy way to tell you this, dearie, but after consulting with the local Council, we decided it was best to wipe their memories entirely. Your family in Texas, I mean.”

Sionnan blinked. “What do you mean, entirely?” Not that her stepfather didn’t deserve whatever he got, but she had four half-siblings who were still children. Virginia had once told her that if the velvet curtain was broken quite disastrously, the Council had a way of rewriting one's mind that left the victim little more than a drooling idiot. 

“I mean, not _entirely_ entirely. They’re all fine. But they don’t remember you at all. You’ll never be able to go back there. I did bring a few things from the house that seemed to be yours, but I’m afraid that’s all there is to it.”

“Oh.” She felt numb. Never go back there? “But where will I stay, over the summer holidays and stuff?” Never go back. Never see them again. It was freeing and terrifying and awfully lonely.

“Here, of course. This is your home now, my little lambkin, at least until you graduate, unless you chance to find a new one. You won’t be the only student staying over the summer, and the teachers remain year round for the most part as well. I don’t think Professor Grabiner has gone on vacation in ten years, so you can always count on him to be around.” The Headmistress said the last part with a knowing smile and Sionnan blushed.

“Somehow, I don’t think he’ll be glad for my company,” she said, snorting into her teacup to cover her embarrassment.

“You don’t think so? Tell me something, Sionnan, what did you think of Hieronymus showing up at your house like that?”

“What did I think? I was glad to see him, I guess. I was a little confused, but grateful.” It had been rather like a fairy tale, the knight in shining armor coming to rescue the damsel in distress. Only it had been a wizard in a green cloak, and she would much rather have had him than any number of knights.

“But what did you think of him? Do you have any notion why he might have done such a thing?” Petunia prodded.

Sionnan shook her head, frowning. “I assumed it was part of his job. That the school keeps an eye on the students, to make sure the velvet curtain isn’t broken and things like that.”

But the Headmistress shook her head. “No, indeed. Everything that happened last night was on Professor Grabiner’s own initiative. I won’t give away too much privileged information, but let us just say that he thought you needed help, and so he went. And it seemed important enough in his mind that he didn’t even bother to put on his shoes. I think he must be at least a _little_ fond of you.”

Sionnan could barely begin to process this information. It was absurd. And yet, she remembered his obvious embarrassment when she’d questioned him, both that morning and the night before. “I… Do you really think? Isn’t that sort of… unethical to suggest?” she sputtered.

Petunia Postdam laughed, loudly and freely. “The world of magic has a much less… stigmatized view of sexual relationships in general, I think you’ll find. And you are above the age of consent, as far as we’re concerned. However, I wasn’t suggesting that you attempt to seduce him. At least, not right away,” she added with a waggle of her eyebrows. 

By this time, Sionnan’s face had turned a distinct shade of mauve. “I certainly wouldn’t be advising you this way if I thought Hieronymus was in any way predatory. He is a good person, and whatever his looks, he’s really not so much older than you are. Only twenty-eight, if I have my figures correct.”

“But… I don’t understand why you’re telling me all this?” Sionnan was at this point fairly sure that she was having some sort of vivid hallucination. What kind of principal encourages a student to have a relationship with a teacher?

“Because Hieronymus is my friend, and he has had a difficult life. In the ten years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him show this much interest in anyone, man, woman, student or teacher. He barely tolerates my intrusions into his life, and only because he must. Yet, he let you, a student, see him disheveled in a way no one else has in order to save you from harm. He let you into his room. You slept in his bed. You may not realize it, but he has left himself vulnerable to you, something I never thought he would do for anyone again. I wouldn’t want either of you to miss this chance, but as you might expect, he is determined to let it pass him by.”

“So what do you think I should do?” Sionnan said, breathless with this new influx of information. She had come into this room bemoaning what she was sure was a one-sided crush, and now found herself in something much more complicated. But she remembered the steady feeling of his arm around her shoulder as he cast the teleport the night before, and she knew that she had to try.

“Well, for the most part, I suppose you ought to keep doing whatever it is you have been doing, since it seems to draw Hieronymus like a needle to a magnet. But tread carefully. Be patient with him, and don’t give up. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but you should keep as much of this information to yourself as possible. I have to say, this is excellent timing really. The solstice is the darkest day of the year. Things can only get better from here.”

Sionnan thought that was probably terribly optimistic, but she could think of little else for the rest of the day. It was lucky she had nothing to do but unpack her things again and study. But when she laid down in her bed, she remembered the smell of the bed in that room full of books, and fell asleep with a determined smile.


	2. Balancing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of winter term. Sionnan discusses her new situation with her roommates, receives a gift from Damien, and Professor Grabiner offers to teach her red magic privately. Things don't quite go as planned.

The rest of winter break proceeded without incident. She saw Professor Grabiner only once, which did not surprise her. He was not a social person by nature, and with nearly all of the students gone, he had no reason to show himself. Sionnan wondered what he did all day, but judging by the contents of his bedroom, she supposed he must be reading.

What surprised her was that when she did encounter the professor, one bitterly cold morning in the library, he looked her up and down like he was cataloguing her traits for an encyclopedia, and spoke in an even tone.

“Good morning, Miss Archer. I take it you've been well?” It was a question even though it was not phrased as such. _He wanted to know if she was all right._

“I'm about as well as I can be,” she said with a small smile. “A bit bored, honestly. And how are you, Professor?” And it was mostly true. Her earlier feelings of loneliness had been almost entirely replaced by relief. Especially when she’d woken up from a familiar nightmare of her stepfather screaming at her and realized she would never have to experience that ever again. Iris Academy was her home now.

There was a complicated procession of emotions across his features, until they finally settled on mild disapproval. “Of course, you couldn’t possibly spend your free time studying,” he said sardonically.

“I have been. But I think even you will admit it's not healthy to spend all your time working.”

He sniffed, possibly conceding the point. “I am fine, thank you very much,” he said, despite sounding neither fine nor grateful. “Good day.” He swooped out of the library like a sudden squall, and Sionnan couldn't help the small smile that graced her features. He undoubtedly would have been horrified to know how easy she found it to tell when a conversation made him uncomfortable.

A few days later, the monotony ended when Ellen Middleton returned to the Academy. It had snowed heavily the night before, and so, despite being bundled against the cold, she was looking a bit bedraggled when she entered the room. Upon seeing Sionnan, she dropped her bags from shock. “What are you doing back so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied. “But it's a long story so you may as well get comfortable.”

When they were both settled into their blankets with mugs of hot chocolate, Ellen sighed. “You go first. Maybe your story will make mine feel less depressing.”

Sionnan had been expecting this conversation, so she'd had some time to consider what to say. “Things didn't go well at home,” she began. “So Professor Grabiner brought me back here. They wiped my parents’ memories of me. I won't be going back.”

“But what happened? I mean, a memory wipe is pretty serious. Did you ask them to do it?” Though she was a wildseed, Ellen knew quite a bit about the laws governing the magical community. Research seemed to be a favorite hobby of hers.

“No, but I'm not really sorry that happened. My stepdad, he… wasn't a nice guy,” she finished lamely. It was a subject she wasn’t entirely comfortable discussing. It brought up bad memories.

“You mean, he was abusive, don't you?” Ellen said with pursed lips. “Why didn't you tell us? I mean, I know there's not much we could've done, but we would've tried to help.”

“I know. It's just that things had been a lot better for the past few years. We were never going to like each other, but I thought we could at least get along. It was only when I got home from Iris that he exploded.”

“I'm surprised the Headmistress sent Professor Grabiner,” Ellen remarked. “I mean, I know you like him, but he's not exactly a people person, is he?”

Sionnan flushed. She couldn't exactly tell her roommate that the professor had come to her rescue of his own volition. She knew without being told that it was something he would not want people to know. “Maybe they were banking on him being intimidating,” she said, remembering the moment he'd appeared in her room, in a battered school sweatshirt looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. And yet, even then, Grabiner had such a presence about him that if she'd encountered him as a stranger, she would have been terrified. That her stepfather had not been only proved his stupidity. “I thought for a minute he was going to punch my stepdad in the face,” she admitted with a small smile. “But he teleported him to the roof and brought me back here.”

“That's almost romantic,” Ellen said, snorting and rolling her eyes. “I'm sorry about your family, but I suppose it's all for the best.” 

“Yes, it was,” she agreed, allowing herself to take a moment to once again remember awakening in the four poster bed that smelled of ink and cedar.

Ellen's tale was much less dramatic. Her parents were apparently suffering a rare side effect of the large-scale magical field that kept the velvet curtain intact. They kept forgetting she existed. Potsdam had gravely informed her that the problem was only likely to get worse. Unable to take any more of it, she'd teleported herself back to school on her own.

“I'm surprised you didn't get into trouble,” Sionnan said, frowning. “I thought we weren't supposed to use magic at home.”

“We aren't,” Ellen admitted, “But I went to the Headmistress right away, and she understood; she said she'd see to it. I'm not going to be going back either.”

The two girls sighed in unison. At least, Sionnan thought, if she was going to have to endure the loneliness of effective orphanhood, she had company.

Virginia Danson returned to Iris on the fourth of January, and so, of course, both Sionnan and Ellen had to repeat the stories of their less than satisfactory vacations. Their witch-born roommate was sympathetic to both of their plights, but she was blown away by Sionnan’s tale.

“I can’t believe Grabby came to rescue you! I almost feel like I’m not allowed to hate him anymore,” she said, half amazed and half disappointed.

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind the first time he gives you demerits,” Ellen remarked, and they all laughed. Virginia was not one for studying, and therefore, she often received the foul end of Grabiner’s temper when she showed up to his red magic classes unprepared. Sionnan herself almost never went to those classes, so she heard about these incidents second hand. 

Elemental magic interested her, but not half so much as blue, green and white magic did. Red and black magic had been relegated to the lowest priority in her schedule, but now she considered whether she ought to modify that. The Headmistress had suggested that she attempt to connect with Grabiner further, a prospect which she found both exciting and daunting. Maybe taking more classes with him would be a good way to start. She turned this over in her mind for several days before deciding against it. First of all, she didn’t want to throw herself into a class where she would likely be quite behind, and secondly, she had an inkling that if she suddenly changed her daily habits just to spend more time with him, Professor Grabiner would become suspicious and withdraw. 

Instead, she saw him on Tuesday morning for blue magic, as usual. Outwardly, he paid her no particular attention. In fact, if she had to guess, she thought he might be subtly trying to avoid interacting with her. But he never refused to answer her questions, so she decided to think up a really good one to ask him after class. Shooing Ellen off, she walked toward the desk with a smile on her face. Professor Grabiner tensed at her approach, as if preparing to be attacked. It struck her as somewhat funny, that the reputed scariest teacher at Iris Academy was so visibly disturbed by the presence of one teenage girl. Her widening smile made him scowl.

“Is there something you require, Miss Archer?” he asked, looking nowhere but at his hands that lay clasped on his book. 

“I was just reading about combined circles in the library over the weekend, and I wondered if this would be effective in adding a sound-muffling effect to the Cloak spell,” she asked, presenting him with the schemata she had drawn in her notebook.

He looked up at her, his scowl deepening. “Planning on sneaking around the halls after curfew?”

“Of course not,” she snorted. “Even if I was, I’d like to think I’m smart enough not to ask _you_ about it,” she added. Grabiner made a sound at this admission, a quiet huff which she realized was a stifled laugh. Encouraged, she continued. “Anyway, I’ve been told we should expect to face actual opponents in the later exams, and since I don’t know much in the way of combative magic, I figured being sneaky was my best bet.”

“That is true,” he conceded, his frown fading. He was silent for a moment, to all appearances deep in thought. “Would you like to learn combative magic, Miss Archer?”

She didn’t know where he was going with this line of questioning, so she decided to stick to the truth. “I don’t have anything against it. It’s just that Blue, White, and Green interested me more. I thought about starting to attend Red more often, but I was afraid I’d be too far behind.”

“It is true that most of my other students are far beyond what you’d be capable of, at this point. But that does not mean it is outside your abilities. The magical world is a dangerous place. You should be able to defend yourself.” He steepled his hands under his chin, and met her eyes. Before she had met Professor Grabiner, Sionnan had always considered brown to be the most boring color one’s eyes could be. Now she knew better.

His eyes were the color of an old penny, or a leather-bound book. During class, they could be sharp as daggers when he pounced with a question, or flat and dull as cracked earth when he was annoyed. But right at that moment, they were unlike anything she’d ever seen. They were inviting and secretive, like the shadows behind an always locked door that had accidentally been left open. She imagined that if he knew what his eyes were saying, he’d refuse to open them ever again. 

Finally, he spoke. “If you do not have anything else to do on Sunday morning, come to the field behind the orchard after breakfast.”

“Professor?” Inviting eyes notwithstanding, she was fairly sure she must be hearing things, so she was hoping if he repeated himself, his words would start to make sense.

“If you want to learn more red magic, I will teach you myself. Not every problem can be solved by putting it on the roof, after all.”

“Of course, I’ll be there,” she said, so brightly that the professor made a face. She quickly schooled her expression, so as not to appear quite as delighted as she was.

“Do not use this as an excuse to neglect your other studies. If you can’t keep up, I will no longer teach you,” he said, his usual scowl materializing on his face. Forbidding as it was, it made her feel like she was back on familiar footing. 

“I understand,” she agreed. She would stay up every night studying before she would give up on this opportunity. Not just because of her feelings for him. Even Virginia admired his skill in red magic, and had reported that, according to her father, Grabiner had been a celebrated duelist in his school days.

He nodded and handed back her notebook. “In any case, the circle you drew was a good first attempt, but before the effect will work the way you imagine, you need to sync up the spell durations by resizing their relative circumferences.” Turning his back on her, he sketched the appropriate schemata on the blackboard with a practiced hand. She envied his precision. There was no way she could inscribe a circle without a compass and ruler.

“Thank you. I hadn’t considered that.” He waved away her gratitude.

“Of course you wouldn’t. Combined circles aren’t covered until mid-sophomore year at least,” he said, turning to fix her with a stern glare. “I hope you remember never to try a new spell unsupervised. I would hate to find you a burned out husk because you decided to practice spellwork beyond your capabilities.”

She grimaced and nodded. “I promise.” Did she imagine the feeling of profound relief that crossed his expression before it returned to its usual frowning baseline?

“You’d best run along before you miss dinner,” he said, shooing her away. Sionnan grinned, knowing that dinner was over an hour away.

“Of course, sir. Make sure you don’t skip dinner either,” she said, waving as she went out the door. Even as the door shut, she could hear him grumbling about students minding their own business. 

**************************

As unexpected as the conversation with Professor Grabiner had been, it wasn't the only surprise the week had in store for her. When she emerged from her dorm with Ellen and Virginia, Damien Ramsey was waiting in the hallway. The girls exchanged a look, and though Virginia glared, she allowed herself to be led away.

“Sionnan,” he said her name with a slight smile, though his eyes travelled over her with some concern. “How are you? I heard you stayed here over break. I thought you were going home.”

“I did,” she admitted, sighing. “But it didn’t go well.” She didn’t know why, but she felt like it would be a bad idea to tell Damien that Professor Grabiner had come for her. He had been nothing but a good friend to her, but still… “So now, I won’t be going back. It’s for the best, really. How was your break?”

“I didn’t go anywhere. My adoptive parents don’t really know what do with me,” he said with a flash of his teeth that was not altogether kind. “If I’d known you were here, I would have come to visit.”

“Well, Ellen ended up coming home early too, so it wasn’t a big deal for me,” she said, “But I’m sorry you had to be alone.”

He smiled at her. When she had first come to the Academy, she remembered she had found Damien rather handsome, despite his dusky blue skin and bat-like wings. Now, all she could do was compare him, unfavorably, to Professor Grabiner. She supposed she ought not mention that. His next words shook her from her reverie. “Anyway, I brought you a Solstice gift.” From behind his back, he produced a small box tied with a pretty blue bow.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, blushing. In point of fact, she felt more than a little uncomfortable. Several times over the previous term, Damien had indicated that he would like their relationship to be more than friendly. He had also never made a secret of the number of other lovers he had taken previously. She had been cautious about it because of her own lack of experience, but not completely against the idea. After all, she never thought her feelings for Professor Grabiner would actually _amount_ to anything. Now that she knew that they might…

“I know. It’s nothing big. Just open it.” With no real reason not to accommodate his request, she pulled the bow and opened the box to find a beautiful enameled hairpin in the shape of a butterfly.

“I would’ve got you one in the shape of butter, but wouldn’t you know, they don’t make hairpins like that,” he said with a grin. Sionnan scowled, her cheeks red. It was a memory that she did not want to revisit, never mind that Professor Grabiner had apologized for yelling at her later. 

“Well, it’s very nice,” she said, maybe not that convincingly, and he laughed again. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

“I told you it’s no big deal. But if you really want to make it up to me, you could wear it this weekend, and come over to my dorm and hang out. I can teach you how to play flowerstones.”

“Oh,” she flushed again. “Well, I would, only Saturday I promised Virginia I’d go to Sports Club, and Sunday, I…” She wasn’t sure what to say about Sunday. “Er… well, I have to go to tutoring. I’m really behind in red magic.” That was all true. Hopefully Damien would take it at face value.

“No problem,” he replied, shrugging. “Maybe another time.” They walked together to the cafeteria, but he went to sit with the other Falcons, allowing her to reunite with her roommates.

“What did he want?” Virginia asked sourly. She had a special antipathy for Damien because of his history with her brother, William. Of course, Sionnan knew even more about that situation than Virginia suspected, but she’d sworn never to tell her friend.

“He gave me a solstice present,” she said. “A hair barrette.” Ellen raised her eyebrows.

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to wear it?” her blond friend asked in an even tone. Sionnan hadn’t spoken about her conversation with the Headmistress, or indeed, about her feelings for Professor Grabiner at all, except to admit that she found him attractive. But Ellen was more perceptive than she at first seemed.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I told Damien before break that I just want to be friends, and he seemed to understand, so I don’t want to assume this means anything more. I do think he needs a friend…”

“What, are you afraid it’ll make Grabby jealous?” Virginia teased, chortling, but both Sionnan and Ellen frowned. ”All right, all right, I’ll stop. But seriously, don’t date that demon freak. He’s trouble.”

***************************************

Sunday morning she was up bright and early. She had barely been able to sleep the night before. After considering her options carefully, she opted to tell her roommates that she had some research to do in the library after breakfast. Virginia, at least, she knew would not set foot in there unless forced. Ellen had given her a rather searching look and then nodded. 

So, she’d gone into the library and then right back out through the back door, heading through the picturesque apple orchard to a deserted field behind the main building. It was cold and the snow crunched and squeaked under her boots, but she was too excited to notice. Having grown up in the South, she was normally the first person to complain about the cold. Today, everything seemed wonderful. The snow sparkled like diamond dust in the weak winter sunlight.

Professor Grabiner was already there, wearing the same school robes that he always wore, green and brown, with matching hat and his green cloak. She would’ve wondered if he even owned other clothes, except she had already seen them. The memory made her face hot. The only difference from his normal appearance was that he had donned pair of leather gloves. He looked up as she approached. “I see the frigid weather didn’t scare you away.”

“Of course not,” she said, and then she added, feeling a bit brave, “I think if you didn’t scare me away, nothing could.”

He scowled, but she couldn’t tell whether he was more annoyed or amused. Perhaps he didn’t even know. “Very well. Can you cast any red magic spells?”

“Just Breeze,” she replied, feeling somewhat embarrassed, never mind that this was precisely why she was here.

He nodded. “Then we’ll work on Push. It is a useful spell, for attack and defense, as you have seen.” It was the first spell he’d used against her stepfather. She was likely never to forget. “The concept is very similar to Breeze, but instead of moving the air, you’ll be moving the object in question. I’ve brought targets for you to practice on.” The targets in question were orbs, about the size of tennis balls, that floated placidly in place wherever the professor put them.

“The sigil for the Push spell is simple, an arrow pointing upward,” he continued, tracing it in the air by way of demonstration. “There is no incantation. You must simply focus on moving the object. Today, it will be enough if you can move the targets at all, but keep in mind, that we will eventually be interested in more accuracy.” She nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She took a deep breath and sketched the symbol in the air with her fingers. Nothing happened. The first three times she did it, the target floated resolutely in the air, taunting her. “Keep your focus!” Professor Grabiner barked. She cast the spell again, feeling her temper flare. This time, it worked. The target rocketed forward, hitting the professor in the face. He toppled like a felled tree into the snow.

Sionnan clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. _Oh gods, what have I done? Have I killed him? He’s never going to teach me again._ These thoughts and many more similar ones raced through her mind as she bounded through the snow toward him, and then, to her relief, she heard a muffled curse.

“That hurts extraordinarily,” he said, his hand over his nose. Perhaps still somewhat addled, he took the hand she offered, pulling himself up to sitting. When he moved his fingers away from his face, they came away bloody.

“I am so sorry, Professor,” she said almost in tears, but he waved off her concern.

“It’s my own fault for not shielding myself. I didn’t expect you to progress so quickly, which will teach me to underestimate you, I suppose,” he said, his tone a bit sour, though his expression was otherwise slightly amused at his own expense. “I’m afraid I will never hear the end of it from the Headmistress, since I’ll have to have her fix my nose.” She supposed he would. It was difficult to cast healing spells on yourself, especially for injuries you couldn’t see. He was probably worried about making things worse. 

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure if she should offer. He might not trust a student, if he didn’t trust himself. But then, it would keep him from being teased by the Headmistress, so he might be glad. “I can heal a small injury like that, if you’re willing.”

He looked at her sharply, perhaps looking for a hint of an ulterior motive, but then he sighed. “If you would.”

She nodded, bringing her hand up and then pausing. “I’ll have to touch your face. I’m not practiced enough to heal remotely.” He nodded, but she could see him swallow back some emotion, as if it was what he had both expected and feared. She placed her fingers gingerly over the bridge of his nose and he winced.

“Your hands are freezing. Why in gods’ name aren’t you wearing gloves?” he snapped, scowling up at her.

Sionnan wouldn’t allow herself to be baited this time. “I don’t have any gloves. I grew up in Texas, as you are aware, and my parents did not think they were important to provide. I’ve been fine so far. Now be still.” He made no other comment, but she could see his expression darkening. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, muttering the incantation under her breath. _Restore what was lost. Mend what was broken. Bring life and warmth._ **Heal.**

Warm golden-green light flowed from her fingertips, and she could feel the spell working, repairing damage and reducing inflammation. It only took a moment, and then she pulled her hand away. Her fingers tingled. She couldn’t honestly tell whether it was the aftereffects of the spell or the knowledge of who she’d just been touching.

He wrinkled his nose and then squeezed it with his fingers. “Thank you. You did an excellent job.”

“It was the least I could do. Since I hit you in the face. You might still have bruises tomorrow, fair warning,” she added nervously.

“Then I suppose I will have to tell people I ran into a door, lest they think I’ve been brawling,” he said with a hint of humor in his voice. “In any case, our lesson will have to conclude for today. I think I need to go lie down.” He stood up with some difficulty and dusted the snow off himself.

Sionnan took a step backward, feeling awkward without knowing why. “Well, goodbye then, Professor.”

“I will see you in class” he agreed, and with nothing else to say, she trudged back to her dorm room. Virginia, it seemed, was out at the mall, and Ellen simply raised her eyebrows as Sionnan came in.

“Are you going to tell me where you really were? You’re awfully flushed for being in the library,” she said archly. Sionnan sighed.

“It’s nothing like what _you’re_ thinking, but I’ll tell you, if you swear to absolute secrecy. Virginia will do nothing but tease me.” Ellen nodded after a moment, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Professor Grabiner offered to give me extra lessons in red magic. We were out in the back field, practicing Push.”

Ellen was so surprised, she let a out giggle. “Gods, I thought you were having a clandestine make-out session with Damien or something, you were being so evasive. But I can see why you wouldn’t want anyone to know. The professor probably wouldn’t enjoy having a bunch of people show up, and Virginia certainly would, if only to make trouble.” Thus in agreement, they spoke no more on the subject. 

On Monday morning, there was a package by the door, wrapped in brown paper and addressed to Sionnan. She was a bit worried that it might be something from Donald. He liked to send unpleasant things to his friends for fun. But she opened it carefully, and found that it contained nothing but a pair of simple leather gloves. There was no note or anything else indicating where it might have come from, but she knew. She held them to her chest like a priceless artifact for a moment before stuffing them in the pockets of her cloak.

When she went to Blue Magic on Tuesday, Professor Grabiner had the fading remnants of two spectacular black eyes. He snarled at anyone who so much as mentioned it. Virginia laughed out loud for five minutes and received ten demerits for her trouble. Ellen just arched her eyebrow in Sionnan’s direction. Sionnan shook her head. What could she say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone who's left kudos. It makes my heart happy.


	3. Kindness and Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An incident in the accounting room opens a new chapter in their lives, and then they must deal with the fallout. Valentine's Day is less distressing than usual.

Hieronymus Grabiner looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. At long last, the bruises had faded from his face. Perhaps now the student body would no longer be entertained by speculating about what misfortune had befallen him. Throughout the whole affair, no one had guessed even close to the truth, which told him several things, the most important being that Sionnan had not told a soul what had transpired.

He had expected her to tell her roommates, at least. It wasn't as if he had warned her to keep their lessons a secret. There was no reason why he should, he told himself with a scowl. They were doing nothing _illicit._ Except, he had never offered a student private lessons before, and by doing so with Sionnan, he felt like he was giving something away that should be kept hidden. He still didn't fully understand what had inspired him to do so in the first place.

No, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he had wanted to teach her. It was a purely selfish desire to have more of her time for himself. What he didn't understand is why he hadn't been able to stuff that impulse down with the rest of his more tender emotions. He felt he was losing his grip on the self-control that he had once prized, that which kept everyone safe, both from magical catastrophe and the slightly smaller disaster that was Hieronymus Grabiner.

Even so, he had to admit that Sionnan Archer had exceeded his expectations, both as a student, and as a person that could be trusted to be discreet. She had mastered Push to the extent which it could be mastered by someone at her level and they had moved on to Spark. He had been unsurprised to discover that fire did not answer strongly to her call. Fire was for someone like him, reckless and destructive. Her gentle intelligence was more suited to water and air. If he was to train her in those elements, he would have to start practicing himself. 

But that was not a task for today. He had something far more urgent to attend to. The previous day, he had discovered, not for the first time, his father’s manus spying on him. Though that was not a problem in and of itself, as the creature never interfered in his affairs, it boded ill for his continued peace of mind. It meant that Aloysius Grabiner was _up to something._ Hieronymus had no idea what his father wanted, but he knew he wasn't going to like it, so it followed that he would have to take precautions. What exactly he would do had eluded him until he chanced upon an idea so preposterous and insane that, of course, he had to try it. He began to make preparations, first by checking the almanac to determine the positions of the various astronomical bodies.

The date was January 24th.

**********************

Sionnan entered her dorm room and flopped onto her bed with a weary sigh. “What's your problem?” Virginia asked, peering down at her from the top bunk.

“Damien says he's in love with me,” she answered before burying her face in her pillow.

“What?!” Both of her roommates were suddenly eyeing her with rapt attention, Virginia swinging down to the floor without the aid of a ladder. 

“Well,” Ellen began in her usual calm tone, “do you think he's telling the truth?”

“What did you say back?” Virginia demanded.

“I don't know. I mean, I don't think he’s lying maliciously, no matter what you say, Virginia. I told him I didn’t think I felt that way about him, but he said he was willing to wait, if only I would agree to go out with him.”

“You agreed, didn't you?” Virginia said unhappily. “You're such a pushover.”

“I know,” Sionnan groaned. “I mean, I only agreed to go to the mall with him, but still, this whole situation is unpleasant. I don't _love_ him, and I’m reasonably sure I never will. I feel like whatever I do, someone is going to end up getting hurt.”

“Yeah,” Virginia said sagely. “You might hurt Professor Grabiner’s feelings!” She howled with laughter, holding her stomach, and Sionnan, scowling, hit her with a pillow.

“At least I'm brave enough to address my feelings. Unlike you, pining for the love that can never be spoken,” she said dramatically. Virginia gave her a dirty look.

“I don't know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm talking about your undying love for Balthasar, obviously.” Now Sionnan and Ellen both started laughing, and Virginia just rolled her eyes, defeated.

“Whatever. But just let me know if that freak tries anything funny. I'll smash his face in.”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Sionnan said with pursed lips. “I can take care of myself.” Plus, she thought wryly, if previous experience was any judge, were Damien actually to harm her, Professor Grabiner would likely burn him to a crisp.

******************************

The magical alarm went off at 4:30, and Sionnan shut it off with a disgruntled groan. She had never been a morning person. Was the chance that she might see Professor Grabiner really worth this agony?

 _Obviously it is,_ she thought to herself, _since I keep doing it._ She got dressed in the semi-darkness, and went out the door without waking her roommates. It was snowing hard outside, and Sionnan was glad that she didn't have to walk out from under the awning to reach the accounting room. She put her key in the door and turned it, expecting to find the space beyond dark and empty. But that was not the case.

The room glowed with eldritch light. The most complicated circle she had ever seen was laid out on the floor, and a horrifying creature was hovering over it, leering down at a body lying within. The body was that of Hieronymus Grabiner. 

There was no space in her head for conscious thought. Every instinct that she possessed screamed that she had to save him, and so she lunged into the circle and grabbed him by the shoulders, intent on hauling him out of the room entirely if she could. But despite his gangly build, he was much heavier than she expected, so she only managed move him a few inches. He groaned, his eyes fluttering under his eyelids.

“Come on, Professor. You could wake up any time now,” she said, though she didn't expect him to answer. 

Then she felt herself assaulted by a sudden inexplicable weakness. “Oh, you taste quite delicious. How nice,” said a deep voice, rich with malice. Sionnan turned, and to her horror, found the demonic being, something like a muscular man with pale blue skin and wickedly pointed teeth, smiling at her like some sort of rare delicacy. She only had a moment to feel gut-wrenching terror and to curse herself for stupidly forgetting the creature in question, and then the door flew open with such force it slammed against the wall.

The Headmistress was standing in the doorway, looking furious and much more formidable than Sionnan had imagined she could look. She held a wand out at the creature, which was only for _serious magic_ , Sionnan knew. “Get away from them, djinn.”

“This one is from my house and so I will not harm him, but that one has crossed the wards. She is my rightful prey,” the djinn said, growling, but not advancing. Potsdam dismissed the wards with a flick of her wand, and that seemed to be enough to shock the professor awake. 

He drew in a gasping breath, his eyes flicking around in confusion as he pushed himself upright. “What in the seven hells?” he muttered. Sionnan could hardly form a coherent thought out of fear, so she certainly couldn't answer him, but the Headmistress was undaunted, still facing the djinn with her wand held in front of her.

“This girl is also under your protection. She is Hieronymus Grabiner’s affianced bride, whom he has sworn to marry this very day. Isn't that right, Hieronymus?” 

Grabiner’s eyes went wide for a moment, and then, having apparently assessed the situation, he took a deep breath, and nodded once, his expression flat. “It is so sworn.” It felt like a pronouncement of doom, somehow. Sionnan could've sworn she heard a thunderclap in the distance.

“Very well. I shall await further instruction,” the djinn said, almost sulkily, and then he disappeared. 

Professor Grabiner rounded on the two women with a face like a volcano about to erupt. “Miss Archer, what idiocy possessed you to cross my wards? You could have been killed.” He did not shout. This was worse. Sionnan felt a strong urge to flee, but then she remembered the situation she had walked into and found her own temper rise up in response.

“I came in here to sort the mail and found you unconscious on the floor with a monster looming over you like a specter of death. Forgive me for attempting to help,” she said, crossing her arms and scowling at him.

He raised a finger threateningly, like he would scold her to death if given half the chance. “You-!”

“Now, now, you two, this is no time to argue. We have to get ready for your impending nuptials!” Potsdam said, with all evidence of good cheer. Sionnan turned to her in surprise, but the Headmistress did not appear to notice. “Go get yourself tidied up, Hieronymus, and meet us on dungeon level three in… Oh, three hours ought to be enough time to prepare.”

He glared at them both like he had a lot more he would've liked to say but had thought better of it, and then he turned on his heel and stormed out of the accounting room, slamming the door behind him.

“Headmistress, but I thought…” Sionnan began.

“Oh do call me Petunia. We’re practically family now, or we’re about to be, since I'll be officiating your wedding,” she said, beaming.

“Er… Petunia… but why am I getting married? I thought you just told the djinn that to make it go away.”

“Well, yes, that was one of the only ways to save you from being devoured, but the word of a wizard isn't like the promise of a normal person. Hieronymus swore he would marry you, and so he _must,_ or else risk the loss of his own magic, besides the fact that then the djinn would still eat you when the day is up.”

Sionnan blinked rapidly. They'd never covered that in class. She felt like that might have been an important thing to know. What if she'd already promised something to someone? “I don't understand why marriage is going to save me from the djinn anyway.”

“Ah, well. That is because the djinn in question is a manus, a spirit bound to the service of a magical family. That manus belongs to the Grabiners and so, if you become a Grabiner, it will not be permitted to harm you,” Petunia Potsdam said in a matter of fact tone. “Now, let's be getting on with the preparations. We have a lot to do.”

*********************************

So, three hours later, Sionnan found herself standing in bare feet on a cold stone floor, wearing a borrowed wedding dress, and being given a positively poisonous glare by Professor Grabiner. She wanted to cry, for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because she had really thought he had grown to at least _like_ her, and now she was certain he despised her. 

But she did not cry. She said her vows in a wavering voice, remembering what Potsdam had said about the word of a wizard. Sionnan wasn't sure if she had enough courage for Hieronymus Grabiner, but she was at least going to try. 

“You may kiss the bride,” the Headmistress said gleefully. Grabiner turned his angry eyes upon her, which was somewhat of a relief to Sionnan. In the back of her mind, she was aware that she found him even more attractive than usual, in his red silk robe, with his dark hair tied back at the base of his neck. She thought that if her roommates could see him now, perhaps without the unpleasant facial expression, even Virginia would have to admit that he wasn't bad looking.

“Surely that won't be necessary,” he snarled. She looked down, trying to pretend like the words didn't hurt.

Petunia Potsdam's answering smile somehow managed to be innocent and downright calculating at the same time. “Do you really want to chance it, Hieronymus?”

He growled something under his breath, but then, he leaned down, and before Sionnan could so much as contemplate what was happening, he had taken her chin in his hand and kissed her lips. It was brief, but otherwise, not a bad kiss, as first kisses go. Then he backed away and scowled, pointing his finger at her and Minnie Cochran, who had the unfortunate luck to be roped into being the witness for this impromptu ceremony.

“You will tell no one, or so help me, I will see you expelled, married or not.” Then he whirled away and was gone. 

His departure broke open the dam Sionnan had so far kept on her emotions, and she burst into tears. The Headmistress embraced her, patting her back just as if she was a small child. “There, there, lambkin, it isn't all bad. After all, you already had feelings for him, so if you were going to end up married to someone at the school, it's best that it’s Hieronymus, right?”

“But you saw him, Petunia. He hates me now.”

“Oh, no, my dear. If he hated you, things would have gone quite differently. I assure you that, even if he hardly realizes it himself, Professor Grabiner is quite desperately in love with you.”

Sionnan gave the Headmistress a dubious look. “No, really. I know he's acting like a complete idiot, but the truth is, he’s terrified. You've tied yourself to him, for all that he tried to keep you away. He doesn't know how to handle it, and he certainly doesn't think he deserves it, because if there is anyone Hieronymus Grabiner hates, it is Hieronymus Grabiner.”

She was feeling somewhat more steady by the evening, after going out to the Glen with Potsdam and Minnie and then having another long talk with the Headmistress. Learning about Grabiner’s past had brought much of his behavior into focus, and she felt a bit more confident about her ability to deal with him. But not so much so that she was ready to speak with him right away. Plus she was tired. She decided, for once, to sleep in.

*********************************

Grabiner had not left immediately. He had left the room, only to lean against the wall next to the doorway, taking great, shuddering breaths. Everything had gone wrong, and now he was _married._ To the person that simultaneously most and least deserved the position. No one should have to be married to him, least of all her, a sentiment with which she seemed to agree, since he could hear her sobbing, 

“….you already have feelings for him,” he heard Petunia say consolingly. He knew that intellectually, but to hear it said aloud made his heart stutter in his chest.

But the next words stopped it cold. “He hates me.” He wanted to run in and protest, but then, he stopped himself. Wouldn't it be better, if that's what she thought? Surely, even he could keep up such a pretense for a year. And then, she would leave and find someone more appropriate to attach herself to, and be safe and happy, and all would be well. He did not consider his own well-being, psychological or otherwise, to be a mitigating factor. This was his fault, and so he would fix it, even if it drove a stake into his heart. Or so he told himself as he walked away, not having the stomach to hear the rest.

Sionnan did not come to their lesson on Sunday. He supposed he couldn't blame her. Yesterday had been awful, and he imagined that for a sixteen year old with a probably quite broken heart, it had been even more so. He wouldn't want to see him, if he was her.

But she didn't come to class Tuesday either, and that was unusual. When Thursday rolled around and she still did not appear, he almost asked Miss Middleton about the whereabouts of her roommate. He stopped himself just before he said the words, knowing with the still somewhat functioning logic center of his brain that his asking after the well-being of a student would be ripe cause for speculation.

There was one place he was sure she would be, and it was not only private, but he had a perfectly legitimate and non-personal reason to need to speak with her. Saturday morning, he went to the accounting room around eight, knowing that she would be nearly done sorting the mail at that point. His timing was perfect; when he entered the room, she had just poured a basket of mail into the cart. But though she had to have heard him enter, she neither spoke nor looked in his direction. 

“Good morning,” he said finally, in hopes of provoking some response. She didn't turn around.

“Good morning, Professor,” she said, her tone frosty. It stung, and he hated that it did. This was exactly the reaction he had planned, the rejection he had hoped for, and it made him feel ill.

“You didn't come to lessons this week,” he said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. 

She finally looked at him, her pale blue eyes accusatory. Her face was red and blotchy. She'd been crying again, and he was fairly sure that was his fault. “Well, a certain person made it clear to me that he found my presence displeasing, so I found other ways to occupy my time.” 

He scowled at her, his conscience pricked beyond his ability to bear. “I suppose if you want your emotions to get in the way of you education, that is your affair.”

“At least I am honest about my emotions, Professor Grabiner. I tried to help you because I care about you, for all the good that it does me, and you treated me like an inconvenient dental appointment. My feelings were hurt. I know that must be a surprise to you, that I have feelings, but there you are. I'll try to keep them out of your hair. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have mail to deliver.”

He was so stunned by this methodical dismemberment of his carefully constructed internal justifications that he did not immediately move to stop her. But she brushed past him without even looking, and at the last minute, his body moved without his explicit instruction and grabbed her by the arm. 

“Miss Ar-…” He cleared his throat, the particulars of magical law looming large in his mind. She was his _wife_ , a concept he could barely contemplate, but he still had to treat her as such. “Sionnan.” She flinched at the sound of her name, but she did finally look at him again. Her expression was no longer angry, though he knew he deserved it, but raw and vulnerable. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't quite make himself. “I am sorry for the way I acted. If anyone should have cause to complain about this arrangement, it is you, and you faced it with aplomb. If you would please return to class, I will attempt to not behave like a complete ass.”

It made her laugh, as he had hoped it would, and he fell the strictures on his heart ease. “All right, I will. Apology accepted.” Her smile nearly dazzled him, and now he did look away, dropping his hand from her arm and contemplating it as if it had betrayed him, and he wasn't sure whether to be angry or grateful.

“Very well. Has Miss Cochran spoken to you about the Valentines’ Day arrangements?” A holiday that he particularly detested, but he was the freshman class advisor, and the students delighted in it. More importantly, they spent money upon it, which was imperative for raising the funds needed for the tithe to the local Tribal Council.

“She did. Everything is worked out already, so you don't have suffer through it,” she said with a knowing grin. He managed to keep himself from smiling back by pursing his lips in annoyance. 

“Then I will see you tomorrow morning.” With that promise made, he left before his emotions could get the better of him. 

*********************************

Later that week, Petunia Potsdam invited him to tea. That wasn't terribly unusual, but Grabiner was wary because it often meant that she was trying to get him to socialize with someone he did not wish to socialize with. Or that she wished to speak to him about a topic she knew he would find unpleasant. She seemed to realize, with her usual irritating prescience, that even he would hesitate to break _someone else's_ crockery. When he arrived to her chambers, she was alone, so he prepared himself to be made uncomfortable and angry.

He was not disappointed. “So, Hieronymus, what are you planning to get you wife for Valentine's Day?” she asked, smiling in a maddening way.

“What?” He didn't even have the words to voice all of his objections to that idea. “You must be joking.”

“Of course not. Surely, even _you_ know that it’s considered normal for spouses to exchange valentines?” Her gaze upon him was almost pitying, which did not improve his temper.

“My _marriage_ is by contract only, as you well know, Petunia. I vowed to give her my wisdom and protection, and so I will. That does not include presents for an insipid holiday in remembrance of some martyred Catholic priest. I don't even know why witches would celebrate such a thing.” He could have spoken at length upon the ridiculousness of Valentine's Day, but Potsdam seemed to know this because she put a hand up to forestall his protests.

“Because it is fun, Hieronymus. I know the thought makes you uneasy,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “But consider this, does your vow of protection really only extend to her physical safety? Shouldn't you protect her heart and happiness just as carefully?”

He had not considered that, but now that he had, he knew that he _should,_ and so of course, he was required to do so. Such was the nature of magical contracts, intention meant just as much as action. If he failed to do something he knew he ought to have done, it was nearly as bad as if he'd broken his vows outright. Petunia knew that as well as anyone. He glared at her, but she only regarded him with an angelic smile.

“Valentine’s Day is a sensitive time for a young woman, as I’m sure you know,” she continued. After witnessing a decade's worth of tears shed in his classroom over the subject, he was painfully aware of this. “I am sure Sionnan would be sad if she didn't get anything from anyone.”

“Then why don't _you_ get her something, if you're so concerned?” he snapped.

“Why, because it will mean so much more if it comes from you, Hieronymus. There's no reason to pretend you don't care for her, you know,” she added cheerfully. “Besides, the Headmistress isn't allowed to play favorites, and I don't have time to write 200 cards. You are her husband. I think that overrides your duties as her teacher.”

He scowled, defeated. “If you have any other marital _wisdom_ to dispense, I suggest you get on with it before my patience runs out.”

“Oh, well, I'm sure I could give you advice all afternoon,” she said, laughing. “But nothing particularly urgent comes to mind. I think I've given you plenty to think about, after all.”

**********************************

By the time Sionnan awoke on the morning of Valentine's Day, she was feeling much more confident about her place in the universe. She had returned to lessons as requested, both the normal ones and the extra sessions with Professor Grabiner. She hadn't originally intended to lose her temper with him, but her nerves had been worn to a thread, after an emotional encounter with Damien. 

Somehow he had _known_ about the marriage, if not the circumstances or the identity of the groom, and he hadn't taken it well. Her roommates hadn't been too sympathetic about the implosion of that friendship, especially since she couldn't explain why. As a result, Sionnan had been left feeling quite alone, and when Professor Grabiner had entered the accounting room, all she could think was that it was _his fault_ and no matter what the Headmistress said about his feelings or his tragic past, she was tired of being pushed around.

But it had all worked out for the better. After that day, things had returned to normal between them, if you could call anything about being accidentally married to your grumpy professor _normal,_ and he had even been persuaded to explain the contractual obligations of their marriage. Marriages in the magical world were much more equitable than the mundane world, she thought, but they also seemed rather barren and legal. Disappointing for her, maybe, but probably a relief to Professor Grabiner. Although she might have hoped, in the depths of her wildest imaginings, that he might now be moved to express some sort of romantic sentiment towards her, she knew that, at this point, the fact that he was willing to speak to her at all, especially alone, was somewhat of an accomplishment.

Still, she was not looking forward to Valentine's Day. Such a holiday becomes rather lonely and depressing when you have no one to share it with, especially when you are obligated to involve yourself in abetting everyone else's romantic feelings. She had overseen the purchasing of school-sponsored valentines for the past three days, including 50 of them from Kyo Katsura to Minnie Cochran. Now she would have to deliver them. When she arrived in the accounting room, however, she did not find Minnie waiting for her as she expected.

Professor Grabiner was sitting at the small table, reading a book. He looked up as she entered. “Miss Cochran wasn't feeling well, possibly somewhat overwhelmed by the volume of romantic sentiment she received from Mr. Katsura. So I am here to assist you with the delivery of valentines.” He said the word with so much disdain that she had to laugh.

“In that case, you can go to the boys’ dorms. I don't fancy being harassed today.” The professor scowled but made no further comment. She belatedly hoped he didn't decide to look into the matter. The reality was that she didn't want to have to be the one delivering an armful of valentines to Damien Ramsey because it would be more than a little awkward. She changed the subject. “There's something I’ve been wondering, Professor. Why don't we use magic to deliver the mail?”

“I suppose you'd like to have an owl deliver your letters?” he said dryly.

“Not particularly,” she answered with a smile, though she was a bit surprised he even knew enough about the mundane world to make that joke. “I don't think they'd make good pets. I just figured the school ought to be able to use some sort of teleport system to send the mail.”

“We certainly could,” he agreed, “but that opens the process to all sorts of possibilities for tampering. As tedious as it may be, personal delivery is much more secure.” She had a mental image of Donald mailing everyone itching powder while he diverted their allowances, and had to concede the point.

They sorted the valentines in silence for some time, neither aware that the other was currently fretting over the valentine that they were each intending to send the other. Hieronymus Grabiner had never before sent a valentine to anyone, not even Violet, though not because he would not have. He had loved her with all of the joyful and reckless affection of youth and had not, then, been afraid to show it. But they had only had that one summer, begun in the wildness of Beltane when she had danced with flowers in her hair and ended in October with her dead and him imprisoned by goblins.

So he was not altogether experienced in the showing of affection, and that was complicated further by the fact that he was not entirely convinced that it was appropriate. He had not forgotten that he had already been chided twice, albeit indirectly, for being dishonest about his feelings, but he found it difficult to express what he could not, or at least was certainly unwilling to, put a name to.

Therefore, he had decided to err on the side of caution, but then begun to worry that he was being too cautious. What if she neglected to discover his gift? What if, even more horrifying, her roommates discovered it first? But it was done now, and he would just have to wait to receive whatever consequences would occur.

Sionnan had agonized over whether to send anything at all. Despite the indisputable fact that Professor Grabiner was now her _husband,_ a word she could hardly even think to herself, let alone say aloud, she was reasonably sure he would not want a gift from anyone, but perhaps most especially from her. But she remembered what she had sworn to him in that cold dungeon room, and she thought that, even though he might not _want_ a gift, it was possible that he _needed_ one. She suspected it had been a long time since anyone had expressed any sort of personal affection for Hieronymus Grabiner.

It had been easy to decide what gift to give him. They had been growing herbs in green magic class, not normal ones, but enchanted ones that, if given fairly regular care, would grow forever in a pot on the windowsill, never mind whether the plant would normally be disposed to do such a thing. One of Sionnan’s favorite herbs was an edible, star-shaped, blue flower called borage. Magically, it was supposed inspire good cheer and domestic tranquility, but historically, it had many other associations, including infinite love. Most importantly, the name was supposed to mean ‘I give courage.’ Considering she had already sworn to do so, it seemed terribly appropriate.

However, she hadn't known exactly how to present it to him, as she was herself not quite courageous enough to deliver it in person, and his rooms were, perhaps understandably, warded against teleportation from outside. A chance encounter with Petunia Potsdam had solved that problem, so now all that remained was to wait for him to discover it. 

The valentines sorted, they parted to make their deliveries. Sionnan was exhausted by the time she finally returned to her dorm room, though she was surprised to find neither Ellen nor Virginia inside until she realized it was lunchtime. She turned around to head to the cafeteria when she saw something on her bed that had not been there before, a thin, leather bound book whose front cover had been stamped with a knot-work fox. Her eyes flicked to the decrepit stuffed animal on her pillow. There were only three people at the school who would have any way of knowing about it. Her heartbeat began to speed alarmingly.

She flipped open the book and saw that the pages were empty, half of them lined, and half not. A journal. Or perhaps something to keep magic related notes and diagrams. As she flicked through the pages, a small piece of paper fell out onto her hand. She recognized the elegantly sprawling handwriting immediately, as she was used to seeing it leaving scathing comments all over her homework. 

_I hope your Valentine's Day is not entirely disagreeable. - H.G._

She felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Petunia had been right, he did love her, and even if this was the closest he ever came to saying it, she thought it might be enough.


	4. A Hand to Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Grabiner has the flu. Sionnan makes up with Damien. But when the Maple Ceremony comes around, she's left alone, until someone comes to her rescue.

He didn't need the card to know who it was from. When he saw the little plant sitting in his desk, he knew, even if he didn't know _how._ The cluster of periwinkle star-shaped flowers may as well have been Sionnan manifested in plant form. Delicate and beautiful at first glance, but surprisingly hardy. Still, he picked the piece of card stock gently from where it was nestled between the stems.

Her handwriting was just as he remembered, both girlish and somewhat untidy, much like herself. He could almost see the weight of the intention behind each word and knew that she had struggled as much as he had with what to say. Grabiner was not the sort of man to employ empty sentiment, and he knew, somehow, that she would not have wanted it. Whatever he did feel, he was not yet ready to put into words. Sionnan, he suspected, did not have the same reticence, or at least, not for the same reason. She was simply trying not to make him more uncomfortable than he already was, an effort which he appreciated, even if he regretted and was ashamed of the necessity. 

_I will always give you my courage. - S._

It was a simple thing, seven words, an offer of support as well as a reminder of the vows they had sworn just three weeks ago. And he knew that she had meant them as much as he had, more perhaps. That was one of the things he appreciated about her, her basic sincerity. So, to see those words and understand the thoughts behind them was almost a shattering experience for Grabiner. He sat down heavily in his chair, passing his hand over his eyes before leaning his head directly on the desk. The press of the wood on his forehead was just uncomfortable enough to ground him in reality. 

He was forced to accept that the time to retreat had passed. But that did not mean that he knew what the next step should be. There was only one person who might have advised him, and he distrusted what he knew Petunia Potsdam would say. To throw himself into it wholeheartedly, without any care for the consequences or long-term ramifications, Grabiner was incapable of following such of course without losing himself in the process. Luckily, he knew that was not what the newly minted Mrs. Grabiner expected of him.

His mind traveled back through his memories of her, a well-trodden path by now. He remembered the winter solstice, how she had cowered in that barren room. It had made him all the more angry because he had never seen Sionnan cower before, not even from him, and so the sight of it had felt as wrong as if he'd seen the sun rise from the west. He was glad, though he felt he shouldn't be, that he had never truly frightened her, but he also knew that she was still probably deeply affected by those events. As much as it disturbed him to contemplate, he knew it had likely been happening years before he had ever met her. He knew what it was like, to be haunted by one’s past, and he would have liked to do what he could to mend those hurts, the way she did his without even realizing she was doing so. 

She had so few choices in her life, he realized. Not even their marriage had been her choice; though he rather hoped she preferred him over death, it wasn't much of an option. So, perhaps, this decision he would leave to her. It would take him plenty of effort just to stifle his natural impulse to drive her away. Maybe that would be enough. To show her that he was here, waiting. Because, although he would have denied it before anyone, including but not limited to any available court of law, when he had kissed her in the dungeon, he had wanted to kiss her again. 

***********************

Nothing in Professor Grabiner’s behavior noticeably changed in the weeks following Valentine's Day, though he did thank her for the plant with a display of gruff yet awkward sincerity that would have been hysterical had it not been so endearing. But Sionnan hadn't really expected him to suddenly be different. In fact, she had slightly worried that the simple giving and receiving of gifts would exceed the amount of affection he could take at one time, and would therefore result in a temporary backlash of grumpiness.

She was relieved when that proved not to be the case, and as the days passed in a relatively normal manner, she thought she detected something slightly different about him. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. but she thought the professor seemed… thawed somehow. Only to her, and only in private, but it felt like, though he had not changed the basic sardonic and temperamental essence of himself, he had lowered his defenses slightly. Talking to him was a little less like trying to cuddle a cactus.

Whether imagined or not, she was feeling cheerful on her way to blue magic at the end of February, but when she and Ellen arrived in the classroom, Professor Grabiner wasn't there. The handwriting on the chalkboard proclaiming ‘Free Period’ was not his. She knew that he did not take vacations. Sad as it was, he had no friends or hobbies outside Iris Academy, and according to the Headmistress, his father was his only family, and they were not on speaking terms. Plus, she had just seen him Sunday, and he had told her he would see her in class. Professor Grabiner did not break promises, even non-magically binding ones, without good reason.

It followed that if he was not here, something was _wrong._ Ellen gave her a sideways glance as they exited the classroom. “You're worried about him. Professor Grabiner, I mean.”

“Yes,” she admitted, though she could hardly tell Ellen that it was her _job_ to worry about him, especially since no one else, possibly excluding Petunia Potsdam, would.

“Why don't you go ask the Headmistress?” Sionnan turned to her eminently reasonable roommate in surprise. Ellen shrugged. “Unlike Virginia, I don't think he's a bad person. He's obviously a brilliant wizard and a capable teacher. And he really does seem to be fond of you, as difficult as it is to tell.”

“You think so?” she murmured, blushing furiously.

“Well, I certainly don't expect him to offer _me_ private lessons,” she said with a snort. “Anyway, I know you're just going to fret about until you know, and I’m planning to be in the library, so you may as well go speak to her. If I see Virginia, I'll tell her you’re busy with student council or something.”

“Thanks, Ellen. I'll see you at dinner.” She hadn't realized how much of a relief it would be to have even one of her roommates supporting her relationship, even if there was no way she could divulge the whole of it. When she went up the stairs toward Petunia Potsdam's quarters, it was with a somewhat lighter heart, and she didn't even have far to go. She nearly collided with the Headmistress on the stairs.

“Oh, Sionnan, I was just coming to look for you. I suppose you're wondering what happened to Hieronymus?” 

“I was a little worried. It's not like him to not show up when he said he would be there.”

“You're quite right. Your husband is nothing if not reliable,” she said in a tone of voice that indicated her ambivalence on whether that was a good thing. “It’s nothing serious, I assure you. He just has a touch of the flu.” 

Relief flooded Sionnan's chest even as she felt a surge of sympathy. Healing magic could handle some of the symptoms of the flu, but it was generally considered best to let the illness run its course normally unless it became life threatening. “In any case, I was hoping you would take him some soup. He’s even grouchier than usual, and I have a feeling he’d rather see you than me,” Potsdam continued with a brilliant smile.

Sionnan raised her eyebrows, unsure whether that was true. She was willing to believe that he did care for her, but she was unsure whether he would actually want her to see him in such a state. However, she could imagine that if he wasn't feeling well, he might find Petunia’s constant cheerfulness irritating. And it wasn't as if she didn't _want_ to see him. “All right, I'll do it.”

So that was how she found herself standing outside of Professor Grabiner’s door, preparing to disable his personal wards. She felt a thrill of unease, like he was waiting just inside the room to tell her off, despite the fact that she had permission from the Headmistress. It was actually a fairly simple set of dispels, but they were arranged in a complex pattern, worked right into the wood of the door, so it would be impossible to get it right without either knowing the sequence or spending a ridiculous amount of time untangling the spellwork. Petunia had told her the trick of it, and then advised her not to inform her husband that she knew, lest he change the spells. Sionnan wasn’t sure whether she agreed. She felt, rather than heard, a muted click that said the door was unlocked, and she turned the knob. When nothing happened, she allowed herself to relax. No matter Potsdam's reassurances, she had half expected his doorway to do something awful to uninvited guests.

The room was dark and silent. “Professor Grabiner?” There was no response. She supposed he was asleep, and she didn't want to bother him, but she couldn’t help feeling a little concerned. She cast a small witchlight and set it to hang over her shoulder as she carefully cleared a space on the desk for the tray of soup and orange juice. Then she approached the bed warily, like she was creeping up on a dangerous wild animal. _I'm just going to check on him,_ she told herself.

The faint blue glow of the witchlight made his face look even paler amongst the tangle of his dark hair and the maroon sheets. She could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, somewhat rapidly considering that he was sleeping, and she laid a hand on his forehead. He made a soft noise, almost a whimper, which she never imagined hearing from his mouth, and she started to pull her hand away. Then his hand clapped over hers, pressing her fingers against his clammy skin.

“Your hand is cold. It feels absolutely heavenly,” he said, his voice hoarse. Her heart leaped into her throat, but she was not too startled to chuckle.

“You have a fever. Give me a moment.” Fever-cooling was a fairly basic Green magic spell, and she traced out the pattern on his forehead. A moment later he sighed and released her hand. She felt a small pang of loss. Though none of the dozens of times she had imagined holding his hand had included him being half-delirious from fever, it was certainly better than nothing.

“I suppose Petunia sent you up here,” he said, his tone more weary than upset. 

“She asked me to bring you some soup and juice. I don’t think she’d expected you to be a very cooperative patient.”

“So she sent you as the sacrificial lamb? How kind of her,” he said with a wry twist of his mouth, finally opening his eyes and squinting up at her. Despite his illness, or perhaps because of it, his expression was much less guarded than she was used to. He looked at her like something both mysterious and arcane; he was not sure what to do with her and was afraid to try.

She swallowed. “You should probably eat it before it gets cold.” He sat up in the bed, rubbing his hands over his face, and she found herself somewhat enraptured. It was only that she’d always seen him in the bulky school robes, and here he was, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants like a normal person, which was arresting in itself because it eliminated some of his forbidding mystique. But more than that, she could really _see him_ , the wiry strength of his arms and the breadth of his shoulders and the lean muscles of his back when he walked past her to sink wearily into the chair in front of his desk. She couldn’t help but imagine that she might _touch_ him, one day in the misty and indefinable future, and that was enough to make her brain feel like it was full of static. 

“Er… so I’ll just be going then,” she said, her voice gone a bit squeaky, and she prayed to whatever entities might be listening that he was too tired to notice.

She’d gotten halfway to the door before she heard the rasp of his voice. “Wait.” More of a question than an order, it made her turn back to him in confusion. His palm was pressed to the back of his neck, and she had the strange notion that he didn’t even know why he had said it, and now was trying to think of a good excuse. “If you would not mind waiting a minute and taking the dishes back downstairs, I’d appreciate it,” he said finally.

“Sure,” she said, her mouth quirked in a half-smile, and then she realized she had nearly missed a perfect opportunity. “Can I look at your books?”

“If you wish. I assume I don’t have to remind you to be careful with them,” he said, reminding her anyway, but with perhaps less spite than he might once have done. She peered at the titles in the bookcases, her head tilted to one side. It was an eclectic mix; many of the titles were not in english, and it would have appeared insanely disordered to most people, but Sionnan guessed, from the titles she could read, that they were organized by subject in a way that made perfect sense to Professor Grabiner. But when she got to the lower shelves, she let out a startled laugh.

“What, may I ask, is so funny about my book collection?” he said, much closer to her than she expected. She almost shrieked with surprise, spinning around to find him less than a foot away with his arms crossed and something approaching an amused smile on his face.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she said, pursing her lips in annoyance even as she was privately thrilled by the knowledge that he was indeed capable of smiling. He backed away, holding his hands up in mute apology. “Anyway, I was surprised to find a copy of Lord of the Rings in your bookshelf. You’re even more of a nerd than I thought.”

“I believe the word you are looking for is scholarly,” he said with a disdainful huff. “Is it so hard to believe that I might sometimes wish to escape from the real world?”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” she said, giving him a gentle smile that seemed to mollify him. She knew better than he imagined about what things he might have liked to escape from.“It’s one of my favorite books too. I haven’t read it in ages.”

“You may borrow it, if you wish,” he said, abruptly turning his back on her before going to sit on the edge of his bed. She raised her eyebrows but managed to keep from grinning as she slid the book out from the bookshelf. It was a beautiful leather bound hardcover. The kind of edition she’d always dreamed of owning but never been able to afford. 

“Thank you,” she told him, hoping she sounded as appreciative as she felt. “You really should be going back to sleep.” He opened his mouth, closed it, and then laid back on the bed with his forearm covering his eyes. She could still see the line of his troubled scowl, and she found she couldn’t quite leave it at that. “Is there something wrong?”

He heaved a great sigh, and for a while she thought he wouldn’t say anything. When he did speak, it was very quiet. “I find it enormously difficult to admit that I enjoy your company, and therefore, I feel like an idiot.”

She blinked several times, decided it would be a bad idea to laugh, and then came to stand beside the bed. “Do you want me to stay with you for a little while? I could read to you.”

He was silent for a long moment, and when he finally answered his voice was even more hoarse than before. “Please.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the book. He rolled onto his side, and she could feel the warmth of his back against her back. Feeling a bit confused but not at all displeased by the situation she found herself in, she started to read about Bilbo Baggins’ birthday party.

It didn’t take long before she heard his breathing slow and deepen. She read for a few more minutes and then quietly closed the book and turned to look at him. Asleep, he looked even younger than twenty-eight, and more than that, he looked lonely and vulnerable, things that she knew he was, but doubted that he would ever admit. Before she could stop herself, she leaned down and kissed his cheek. Thankfully, he did not stir, and she took the tray of empty dishes and left the room.

But when the door clicked closed behind her, Grabiner’s hand reached up and pressed against his cheek as if the kiss were a creature he might capture with his fingers. 

*****************************

A little over a week later, as Sionnan left her dorm intending to go to the gym, she heard a voice she had not expected to hear again. Damien Ramsey was leaning against the wall outside her doorway, looking contrite with his hands stuffed into his pockets. She frowned at him.

“How have you been?” he asked quietly.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” she said. She would have told him so even if it hadn't been true because she was still angry, but as luck would have it, she had no reason to lie. Professor Grabiner had returned to class on the previous Thursday looking somewhat tired but otherwise healthy. The first time their eyes met, he looked away almost instantly, his cheeks flushed, but he had said nothing. If he had seemed a little agitated during their Sunday lesson, she was certainly not going to mention it because there was something almost adorable about his frantic attempts to remain indifferent to her presence. So all in all, she was feeling fairly optimistic.

“I can see that,” Damien said with a wry smirk. “I just wanted to apologize, about how I acted before. It was uncalled for.” She waited silently, having no intention to disagree with him. “After I thought about it, I realized that it had to be some sort of temporary contractual thing. I should’ve let you explain.”

“Just because it a contractual marriage doesn’t mean I don’t care for him,” she said somewhat hotly, after checking to see that no one was around. It was the word ‘temporary’ that had roused her temper. The Headmistress had explained that the marriage was only for a year and a day unless both parties wished to renew it. If questioned, she would have said that she was annoyed that Damien assumed he knew what was going on. But truthfully, she did not like to remember that he relationship with Professor Grabiner came with an expiration date, unless she could convince him otherwise.

“But does he care about you?” Damien asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know you haven’t been intimate.”

Her face felt like it was on fire. She didn’t even want to know how he knew that. Was there some magical way to tell, or was he just making an educated guess? “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she hissed, turning and walking down the hall.

“Hey, wait!” He grabbed her shoulder, spinning her halfway back in his direction. She was beginning to wish Virginia was here because she felt like punching him, but had a feeling it would hurt her more than it hurt him. “I’m sorry, Sionnan,” he said again. “I won’t say anything more about it. I just want us to be friends again.” She glared at him, but his face remained sincere. “Please?” he added in a small voice, his eyes shining.

She sighed. “Fine. Only friends,” she added, holding a finger up in censure.

“That’s all I need,” he agreed with a smile.

*************************  
On March 4th, Grabiner made his way to the library. The selection of magical books was mediocre compared to his own collection, but they did have a fairly regular rotation of new novels, and despite what the residents of Iris Academy might have thought, he did read fiction in his spare time. It was the perfect time to check for new arrivals because he knew the student body would be busily occupied stuffing themselves with as many pancakes as they could eat. 

Therefore, he was surprised to see a familiar form lying sideways in one of the squashy armchairs, leafing idly through a magazine. “Sionnan? What are you doing here?”

She looked up in surprise, and he thought her expression was a little strained. “Professor? Is it already past curfew?”

“No. I mean, why aren’t you with your friends, slipping into a maple syrup induced diabetic coma?” She laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Well, you know, Minnie told me married women aren’t allowed to come. Apparently it’s some sort of traditional courtship ritual. I don’t know what pancakes have to do with courting, but here I am.” He felt like the worst sort of idiot, especially since it was clear she was trying to downplay her disappointment for his sake. It was bad enough to be married to a bitter and unkind person like himself, but now she would be missing out on things that she should have experienced. 

“I suppose you haven’t eaten either?” he said with a disapproving scowl.

“I’m pretending to be ill,” she said, shrugging as if to say that it couldn’t be helped. “I just didn’t want to be in my dorm room anymore.”

“Come on then,” he said, holding his hand out to her. She didn’t hesitate to take it, which he found more gratifying than he would have liked to admit.

“Where are we going?” she asked, curious rather than accusing or worried, as she watched him cast the teleport.

“To eat. Obviously,” he said, unable to completely keep himself from smiling at the stunned expression on her face. She didn’t let go of his hand. Once again he was struck by how small her fingers were. He pulled her closer, to ensure she was caught in the teleport properly, he told himself. The library dissolved around them, and after a split second where there was nothing but the feeling of her hand in his, they arrived on the sidewalk in front of one of his favorites places.

“Oh! I thought we’d be going to the Glen. Where are we?” she asked, her eyes darting around in interest.

“This is a perfectly mundane pub, thereby eliminating the possibility that we will be seen by anyone we know.” She smiled at him, unaware, he supposed, of the things it did to his heart.

“I take it you come come here often?”

He let out a soft snort of laughter despite himself. “I suppose I do. Shall we go in?” She nodded, and he led her through the door.

*****************************

A little over an hour later, they reappeared back in the library. The clock tower started chiming the hour. Ten o’clock. “It’s a half hour past curfew,” Professor Grabiner said gravely. “You’d better be off to bed.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, having been put in a good mood by the mere fact that she had basically just been on a date, though she doubted he would’ve called it one. Plus, the food had been delicious, far beyond what she would’ve expected from a bar. “Are you going to give me demerits, Professor?”

“Not today,” he said, that same sly near-smile appearing on his face. “Despite what your friends may think, I don’t dispense punishment because I get some sort of enjoyment out of it. But you do need to sleep.”

“I’m sure you aren’t going to stay up half the night reading,” she retorted, quite accurately if his expression was anything to go by.

“I’m allowed. Go to bed,” he said, his scowl not particularly heartfelt.

“I’m going,” she replied cheerfully. “Good night, Professor.” She turned to leave, and then, as if her day could get any more miraculous, he caught after her hand. When she looked back at him, his expression was too complicated to describe, but something about it made her heart flutter madly.

“If you would like, when in private,” he said haltingly, “It would not be inappropriate for you to call me by my given name.” 

She could tell, even without truly knowing why, that this was difficult for him, so she simply squeezed his hand and nodded. “All right then. Good nigh, Hieronymus.” This simple gesture affected him deeply; she could see it in the way his pupils widened, and his grip on her hand tightened for just a moment before he let go.

“Good night, Sionnan,” he said in a rough voice before turning and leaving the library. She put her hand over her thundering heart for a moment. It had been a much more exciting day than she had expected.

When she got back to the dorm room, Ellen and Virginia were so full of gossip from the Maple Ceremony that they didn’t even bother to ask her where she’d been. It had been an eventful evening for everyone, it seemed, and if things continued as they were, there was likely to be an altercation between Kyo and Jacob Blaising. Sionnan decided she would speak to Minnie about it as soon as she could. 

When she finally laid down to go to sleep, her mind traveled back through the events of the night. Dinner had been mostly spent in silence, but it had been a friendly sort of quiet, rather the tense and disagreeable kind she had experienced back in October when he had bought her tea in the Glen. And he had taken her hand, twice. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the sensation of his long fingers around hers, slightly bony and oddly calloused from a decade of wielding wands and chalk with equal fervor, but reassuringly steady all the same. And what she had seen in his dark eyes the moment she spoke his name had made her never want to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for all the nice comments. It keep me motivated to continue this. (Screw you job.)


	5. The Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sionnan receives a letter from Aloysius Grabiner that portends ill for the future. Hieronymus has to decide where to draw the line between safety and paranoia. Damien's true colors are revealed.

Later, Grabiner would remember that week as a long series of small disasters that led to the larger one the way a trail of breadcrumbs inevitably leads to the evil witch’s cottage. He should have realized, but he did not, and so they were led to their fate. It began with a letter from his father.

He went into the accounting room late on Saturday morning with the intention, so he told himself, of checking to make sure that the notices about the following week’s exam had been delivered properly, but the truth was that he wanted to see his wife. He knew that it was ridiculous; he had seen her the day before, and he planned to see her the following morning, but it had begun to feel as if his day was not entirely complete without receiving at least one of her smiles. She was sitting at the table when he arrived, absorbed in reading something from a thick piece of parchment, but he was immediately put on his guard.

There was an aura in the room that he recognized, one he hoped to never feel again, a magical signature that made him feel uneasy and vaguely nauseous. He scanned the room, his guts clenching, and spied the little wooden box on the table, intricately carved with esoteric symbols. He swept it into his pocket in one fluid, panicked, motion, and he could feel the malevolence radiating from it like a sinister heartbeat. “Did you open it?” he asked, rather more harshly than he intended.

Sionnan jumped at the sound of his voice but actually seemed rather relieved to see him. “No, I was still reading the letter, but I wasn't entirely sure I ought to open it without you. The letter was addressed to me, but it is from _your_ father, after all.” He had half a mind to rip the thing right from her fingers, but he took a breath to compose himself.

“You were right to be cautious. You will tell me if he sends you anything else,” he said, briefly putting his hand in her shoulder. “Are you done reading?”

She handed it up to him wordlessly, and he scanned it with sharp eyes. Mostly meaningless drivel, obviously meant to appeal to a tender-hearted girl. It was only his good fortune that Sionnan was just as intelligent as she was kind. Reassured that the letter itself contained neither worded threats nor malevolent spells, he cast Spark and watched the paper burn to ashes in his hand. She gazed up at him with a slightly concerned expression.

He turned away, intending to leave because, though he had come to be reassured by her presence, he was now too unsettled to remain. There were things to research, preparations to make. But she took ahold of his hand, her small, cool fingers gripping his with surprising strength. “Hieronymus…” He felt rooted to the spot, the sound of his name on her lips sending shivers down his spine. “I know you have good reason to distrust your father, but it has been many years. Maybe he's changed.”

He wanted to be angry, to vent his frustration and his fear, but, perhaps only because of the steady pressure of her hand in his, he remained in control of himself. She had no way of knowing the whole of it, no matter what that meddler Petunia had told her, because _no one_ knew. He had never told a soul. “I appreciate your concern,” he said gruffly. “But Aloysius Grabiner will never change. He is not to be trusted.”

She didn't release his hand but continued to speak, in a voice that was at once passionate and slightly timid. “I know you wouldn't have chosen me as a wife, but I’d like to be able to be there for you anyway, Hieronymus. You can talk to me.”

The tumult of emotions in his heart was such that he didn't immediately know how to respond, and when he did, even he was surprised by what came out. “I would have chosen no other. But I cannot burden you with this.” He had the sudden impulse to clap his hand over his own mouth, but the damage was done. With his secret heart bared, he felt the strong desire to flee, but he somehow could not summon the strength to remove his hand from hers.

“You will never be a burden to me,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand before finally letting go. But he couldn't move right away because her proclamation, given with such gentle surety, had shaken him so deeply that he felt like crying. He knew, the same way he knew his own name, that if he was to turn around and throw himself into her arms, she would comfort him and stroke his hair, and not think any less of him tomorrow. But Hieronymus Grabiner was nothing if not proud. He was a grown man, for gods’ sakes. He had not wept once since returning from the Othwerwold ten years ago, not even in the depths of his despair, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he managed to say, and he left the room. It was fortunate for him that the students were by now well-trained to avoid his gaze, or they would have seen him looking quite unlike his usual self. 

When he reached his room, he flung himself into his desk chair with such desperation that it rocked slightly off the floor. _It would be fitting,_ he thought, _if I fell out of my chair like an idiot._ It was that sort of day. But he did not fall, so instead, he pulled a bottle of brandy from his bottom desk drawer and poured himself a large glass, drank it in one gulp and poured a second glass to be drunk more properly. 

He knew he hadn’t handled that well. It was cowardly of him, to run away, as well as somewhat childish. What did it say about him, that he was navigating this situation with less maturity than a sixteen year old? That was part of the problem, he supposed. Treating her like a child put him in comfortable territory. He could dismiss his own feelings with his usual self-loathing, and insist that nothing should be done because it was inappropriate to do so. Every time she showed that she was, in fact, an intelligent young woman capable of charting her own course, and probably his too, he panicked, even as his affection for her grew. 

Something. He would do something for her. Only, not just right now, because there was a box full of evil in his pocket that needed to be dealt with, and questions that needed to be answered. The box first.

He shielded himself, and prodded the box open with the end of a pencil. It did not, at least, explode. There was a queen’s ransom worth of jewelry inside. Exactly the sort of thing his father thought would appeal to a young woman. Each piece was individually cursed, nothing fatal, but many of them horrifically insidious. He dispelled what he could, sealed the rest, then sealed the box. Then he called for his manus.

Despite the unintentional consequences of the ritual, it had been ultimately successful. The allegiance of the djinn, Maram, such as it was, now belonged to Hieronymus Grabiner alone. What his father thought about the loss of one of his most useful, if not particularly prized, servants, he did not know, though he feared that was part of the reason for this particular act of aggression.

Maram materialized in the room, floating about a foot off the floor, his expression passively unpleasant. “You called?”

“I wish to ask you some questions about my father. Does your previous contract with him prevent you from doing so?”

“It depends on what you are asking. He forbid me to speak of certain plans, and has even locked parts of my memory away,” the djinn said, but he now appeared faintly interested in the proceedings. Grabiner was unsure whether this was a good thing.

“He sent this lovely _gift_ to my wife,” he said, gesturing to the box on the desk. “I am wondering if you have some idea what his motivation would be for such a thing, and what his plans for the future might be.”

Maram smiled. It was not a comforting or pleasant expression.“You mean that delicious and nubile young thing that was valiantly trying to save you from your own foolishness?”

“Please refrain from speaking about her in such a fashion,” he said sharply, not particularly enjoying either the description nor the reminder of his own part in the whole debacle.

“You _care_ about her. How fascinating. You really should be thanking me,” the djinn said with an almost demonic glee.

“I don’t see why it should interest you in the least,” Grabiner snapped. “And you will keep that particular tidbit of information to yourself, if you know what’s good for you. Answer my question.”

“Very well.” The djinn picked up the box, examining the layers of spellwork with eyes that perceived things no mortal could understand. “It is an unpleasant collection of curses. I suspect it was a sort of test, on you and the girl. It undoubtedly amuses him to think he might cause you distress. He may have hoped that if she fell prey to one of these enchantments, you would come to him for help. Or revenge.”

“Then he doesn’t know me very well,” Grabiner said, made even angrier that his suspicions had been proved correct. In his heart, he knew that if the worst had come to pass, and Sionnan had really been harmed by something in that box, he might very well have gone to England just for the pleasure of wiping his father off the face of the earth. The knowledge that this would have played directly into the man’s hands was unsettling.

“Even I am aware that you are capable of undoing all of these curses with your own power. Or at the very least, with the help of that infuriating glitter woman,” Maram said, scowling at the memory of his encounter with Petunia Potsdam. “So either he is vastly underestimating your skill. Or he wishes you to think he is.”

“You believe he is trying to lull me into letting my guard down?” That was one thing there was no danger of. He was a careful person by nature. Now he would have to become more so.

“All I know about his plans for you is that he wishes, above all, to hurt you, but also to find a way to lure you closer. I do not know why. Or if I do, I am not allowed to remember.” Grabiner digested this knowledge with a thoughtful scowl. The one good thing about getting information from the djinn was that it was not allowed to lie, even by omission. But it was possible that his father had erased all the knowledge that would provide the proper context for his plans. 

“Very well. From now on, you are to keep a watch on Sionnan. You will inform me if anything suspicious or dangerous occurs, but you will remain invisible and silent. Do not render aid unless I authorize it. And above all, you are to reveal _nothing_ about my wife to anyone except me.”

“As you wish.” The djinn disappeared, and Grabiner picked up the offending box and put it inside a hollow book, locking and sealing it with the strongest magic he had available. Then he turned back to the brandy, staring at the glass pensively. Something would have to be done about Aloysius Grabiner, but what exactly that would be, his son had no notion.

**********************

On Sunday, Sionnan thought the professor looked rather drawn and haggard when she met him in the field behind the orchard. The air was still chill even though the snow had begun to melt, and she could see the steaming puffs of his breath when she approached. He didn't notice her presence at first, and she placed a comforting hand on the small of his back. “Are you all right, Hieronymus? You aren’t ill again, are you?”

He turned slightly, looking down on her. Sometime she forgot how tall he was, but at this distance, it was hard to ignore the fact that his chin was several inches over the top of her head. He didn’t flinch or pull away from her as she expected. Instead, his expression softened. Not much, but enough so that she could see, and she remembered their conversation from the day before. “I would have chosen no other,” he had said, and she had a strong sense that he had not meant to say the words, but that they were nonetheless true. It had been difficult to think of anything else since then.

“I am fine,” he replied, and he put his arm lightly around her shoulder. A simple gesture, maybe, but Sionnan knew it was a breakthrough of sorts. By some definition, one might even call it an embrace. “Just tired.”

She leaned into him, pushing her luck in a literal way. “You know, we could take a break from lessons, if you need to rest.”

“No,” he said firmly. “That gift my father sent you was full of cursed objects. Now, more than ever, you need to be prepared.” She shivered, and he squeezed her shoulder before stepping away. “Let us begin.”

*************************

On Wednesday morning, Sionnan went to breakfast with Ellen and Virginia, but when they got to the cafeteria, the Headmistress was awaiting them with a much grimmer expression than usual. “Good morning, ducklings. I’m afraid there's been a bit of an incident in Falcon Hall. Until things get sorted, you’ll all be spending the day in here.”

“Falcon Hall? Do you think your brother is all right?” Ellen said, turning to Virginia.

“My brother? You mean Donald? Pffft, I'm sure he's fine,” she said, but Sionnan didn't miss the way her eyes darted around in concern. Donald wasn't anywhere in the cafeteria. But then, neither were Jacob, Damien, or Kyo. 

“Let’s just wait and see what happens,” Sionnan said, putting her hand on her roommate’s shoulder. “Maybe Jacob and Kyo have been fighting again. The Headmistress didn't say anything _bad_ happened to anyone.”

“Yeah. Right,” Virginia said, her voice uneasy. The girls ate breakfast together, and played several rounds of gin and checkers, but no one’s heart was really in it. Sionnan was worried about Donald and Damien, and she wouldn't have wanted anything to happen to the other missing boys either, no matter how much she thought Kyo needed an attitude adjustment. But the person she truly wanted to see was her professor-slash-husband.

Not that she was worried about Hieronymus. She was quite sure that unless a horde of dragons descended on campus, he would be perfectly all right. Physically, in any case. But she wanted to speak with him. There was no doubt that he was investigating the incident, whatever it was, and would have the information and reassurances they all needed.

However, it wasn't until after lunch that there was any movement toward a resolution. Some of the Falcons filed back into the cafeteria. Virginia and Ellen immediately pounced on Jacob Blaising, but Sionnan approached Damien instead. He was hanging back from the others, which wasn't that abnormal, but she thought he looked upset about something.

“Damien, are you all right? Pet- I mean, Professor Potsdam wouldn't really tell us anything.”

He looked up at the sound of her voice, flashing her a wan smile. “I suppose she wouldn't have. Someone's door caught on fire. Deliberately set, they think.”

However annoyed she might be with him, Damien was still her friend, and she remembered what he had said about being bullied after things went sour with William. “It wasn't your door, was it?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Though I can't deny I'm pleased to have you worried about me,” he said with a hint of his normal, charming smile. “Anyway, they seem to think the younger Danson did it. Grabiner is still questioning him.”

“Donald?” Sionnan glanced over in the direction of her roommates, biting her lip. “He likes to play pranks, but I don't think he'd do anything that dangerous.”

“I have to agree with you there,” Damien said, but his eyes were troubled. “I'm going to get something to eat. See you later.”

The Headmistress released them from the cafeteria less than an hour later, but Sionnan didn’t see Professor Grabiner until that evening. She was walking back to her dorm from the library, alone because Ellen and Virginia had gone to try and speak to Donald, when someone grabbed her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin, and she might have screamed, except she recognized the the tall and be-hatted silhouette of her husband in the alcove. “Was that really necessary? I think you took several years off my life,” she said, wagging her finger at him.

“Perhaps I’m attempting to make us match in apparent age,” he said with a hint of a smile. “Jokes aside, I did not mean to frighten you, but you came upon me unexpectedly, and I’ve been wanting to speak with you in private. I wasn’t sure when I would again have the chance, since you seem to travel with an entourage.”

Her cheeks colored at the very idea that he wanted to be alone with her, despite the fact that he often was. He wasn’t usually so upfront about it, which she supposed, likely meant he had nothing romantic in mind. “Is something wrong, Hieronymus?”

“No,” he said, and then he seemed to think better of it. “Well, yes, but I’m not sure what, at present. Are you still friendly with Damien Ramsey?”

“Somewhat,” she replied truthfully. “Things have been a bit strained lately.” There was no point, she decided, in saying that it had something to do with their marriage. She didn’t want Grabiner to think she had spilled the beans, after all, and she knew he would be angry about it either way. 

He nodded, but his mouth was a grim line. “Promise me you will be careful, around him.” His hand had not left her shoulder, and now he squeezed with his fingers for emphasis.

“Of course, I will, but has he done something wrong?” she asked, gazing up in her husband’s face. She thought he looked older, somehow, and though that did not make him less handsome in her eyes, she did worry that he was running himself a bit ragged. 

“I don’t know. He may have, and he may have nothing to do with it. I wouldn’t like to ruin one of your friendships over a suspicion of mine. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can be a rather untrusting of others.”

Sionnan laughed, and seized by a sudden burst of affection for this man and his particular brand of self-deprecating humor, she threw her arms around his waist. He froze, and she thought she might have taken things too far. Though there was no one around at present, and the alcove they stood in was swathed in shadow, it was a rather public place for such a display. But after a moment, his hand came to rest on the top of her head. “Thank you for worrying about me. But if things are that dangerous, do you think you ought to warn all the students?” she asked, pulling back somewhat to look at his face again. She didn't want to think that Damien was dangerous or evil. But she trusted Hieronymus, and it would be worse, somehow, if others were hurt by him because they were unaware of the danger.

“I’ve spoken to Petunia, of course. But it would hardly be fair to ruin the boy’s reputation over something that isn’t proven. You, however, are my special charge, and so I would rather be safe than sorry.” Their eyes met, and Sionnan felt her heart turn over in her chest, so full of emotion it was hard to swallow around it. Grabiner’s fingers trailed slowly through her thick hair and came to rest on the side of her face, and then a peal of laughter rang out in the distance. 

They jumped back from each other at once, and Professor Grabiner looked up at the ceiling as if to pray for divine intervention. Sionnan took a deep breath. “I suppose I will see you tomorrow in class. I hope you’ll get some rest,” she added gently. “You look worn to a thread.”

“I am _feeling_ worn to a thread,” he admitted, “but next week is a holiday. I'll survive until then.” They bid each other good night, and Sionnan watched him stride off into the evening gloom with a wistful expression. It was time to admit the truth. She did not have a _crush_ on him. She was quite madly in love with Hieronymus Grabiner, and by some sort of celestial good fortune, she had wound up married to him. The fact that he was obviously considering returning her affections was the icing on the best cake that she could imagine. She went back to her dorm with a smile on her face.

****************************

Grabiner was not smiling as he patrolled the halls. What had he been thinking? He had almost _kissed_ her, a student, right there in the corridor. Of course, she was also his wife, so he supposed there wasn't anything _wrong_ with kissing her, especially if she wanted to be kissed, but it really should be kept behind closed doors. He knew that something about him had fundamentally changed, that he could think about such a thing, but even so, the timing was less than ideal. 

Petunia had agreed that it was in everyone's best interest to keep their marriage secret for as long as possible. He could not really care less what the students thought about him personally, and there was little he could offer as proof in his defense, except his word and the Headmistress’s. What worried him more was that Sionnan would be ostracized, perhaps even ridiculed, and he would not have her school experience ruined by a mistake that was almost entirely his own. Plus, though Petunia did not agree, Grabiner was concerned that school discipline would suffer if there was even a suspicion that the chief disciplinarian was a closet romantic. And now was not a good time to invite more chaos into the mix.

Even Petunia Potsdam, the avatar of good cheer herself, had frowned when he had told her what he discovered in his investigations. “Demonic magic? So Damien Ramsey _is_ involved?”

“Not in bewitching the door,” he had said, feeling unusually grim. “Though a simple spell, the magical signature was undoubtedly one of an infernal creature of the highest order. Not a half-blood boy.”

“Have his parents come for him, after all? You'd think they could just write a letter, like all the others.” He had not laughed at her half-hearted attempt at lightening the mood.

“Perhaps. But, interestingly enough, when the girl confessed, she displayed evidence of mental tampering. Which _could have_ been done by Mr. Ramsey, and in fact, most likely was.” Of course, almost anyone with Other parentage had some innate skill with mind alteration magic. That was the basic mechanism of a glamour, after all, an important survival tool for those who wished to fit in among humans. But there was a strong taboo in the magical community against memory modification on sentient creatures for reasons other than the maintenance of the velvet curtain. The fact that Damien Ramsey had probably broken it, for reasons that at first glance seemed trivial, made Grabiner uneasy. 

“I'm afraid you're right. Something doesn't add up, Hieronymus. I'll have to keep a closer eye on Mr. Ramsey, since you have security worries of a more personal nature,” Potsdam had said, pursing her lips.

And that was all that could be done, until more proof, or useful information, could be discovered.

Later, Grabiner would wish that he had been harsher about telling Sionnan to stay away from Damien Ramsey. But his emotions had been in turmoil, as they so often were in her presence, and he had worried she would think he was behaving like a jealous child. 

Because he _was_ jealous, as difficult as it was to admit. He did not particularly think that Mr. Ramsey posed an actual threat to his place in his wife’s heart because it seemed clear to Hieronymus that Sionnan cared about him more than he had any right to expect, and her loyalty was constant as gravity. What he envied was the carefree way in which Damien could pursue her affections, both the fact that he could do so in public without fearing some sort of riot, and the knowledge that when he did so, he likely did not then question whether he was some sort of depraved monster.

Twelve years was really not so much of an age difference, certainly not in the magical community, when some of those in the Otherworld could expect to live for millennia. And it was generally accepted that if one was old enough to partake in the Choice, than one was old enough to decide with whom they wished to associate, romantically or otherwise. But she was still a student, and he was her teacher, and though Petunia Potsdam certainly didn't believe there was anything wrong with that, Hieronymus Grabiner did. Or at least, he thought that he _should._ It raised all sorts of ethical dilemmas. 

But the truth was, he could neither stop being her teacher nor her husband. Not until next January at the very least, and he knew, even now, that he had absolutely no intention of letting her go if she would consent to be with him. Next year, it was possible that she could advance to junior level Blue magic a year early, and thus be taught be Professor Finch rather than himself. But Grabiner taught Red magic all the way through senior level; there was no one more qualified.

If he could give up on neither, he would have to be both, to the best of his limited ability. He decided that if it made him a monster, then he would simply have to learn to live with it. But that left him still with the problem of Damien Ramsey, and he had decided to be cautious in his accusations. Never was he more wrong.

**************************

On Friday, Sionnan was riding high on a wave of her own accomplishments. Her exam had gone swimmingly. She had successfully challenged her cloaked adversary to a battle of wits, and escaped the dungeon, earning herself not only a passing grade but also ten merits for solving the confrontation without violence. And her husband, who had, as usual, been monitoring the exam, had hinted that he might like to spend some time with her during the week-long break. He still looked like he was dead on his feet, but he had smiled at her, and not even in the sly way he sometimes did when he was trying not to laugh at his own jokes. A gentle, private smile the likes of which she had never imagined might grace his face, and which caused her to envision things that were perhaps not entirely appropriate to the situation. 

He had shooed her away then, because he needed to concentrate, and she headed back to her room, intending to do some reading until Ellen and Virginia were done with their exams. They planned to go to the mall together on Saturday before Virginia left for home, but this night was one for relaxing. Donald had been set free after Barbara's confession, which put both Ellen and Virginia in good spirits, though neither would admit it. The mysterious arson had turned out to be a simple, somewhat ridiculous accident, and everything was back to normal.

The sudden feeling of a hand tightly grasping her wrist was unexpected. “Damien! You startled me.”

“I really need to talk to you about something. Will you come with me to the gym?” he asked, his eyes darting all around. 

Hieronymus had told her to be careful, but she decided there was nothing particularly alarming about the _gym._ “All right, I'll come.” The grip on her wrist loosened slightly, but he walked at a brisk pace that left her jogging to keep up. “What is this about? Did something happen?”

He didn't answer until he had shut the door to the gymnasium behind him. It was rather more dark and empty than she'd been expecting, which set off immediate alarm bells. She took a step backward as he turned. “I told you about my family. My true family. They're coming for me now, and they aren't very nice people.”

“So it's true, what everyone said about you.” Damien's wings rustled as he watched her back away, but he didn't move to stop her. He simply gave her a smile, part wistful and part sarcastic.

“Yes, I'm a demon, I'm afraid. And to prove my worth to my bloodline, I've got to capture a soul. A pure, innocent, virgin soul, or they'll tear me to ribbons before graduation day.”

Sionnan swallowed thickly, her heart thudding in fear. She would have screamed, only she knew that no one would hear her. “But you can't… I need my soul.” Possibly not the most intelligent or persuasive thing to say, but it was all she coulod think of.

“It's true. I thought there might be a way to let you keep it for a while, if only you'd offered it to me willingly, out of _love_ ,” he said, with a face like he was going to be ill. “But then you had to go and get married. Tell me, dear Sionnan, who was it that stole your heart from me?”

He advanced on her suddenly, and she tried to back away, only to find herself bound in place. Now she really wanted to scream, but on the other hand, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. “My husband is none of your business.”

“Even now, you're loyal? It's been what, nearly two months, and he still hasn't even _touched_ you. It's really quite a shame that I won't be able to taste you for myself. What kind of a man would leave such a delicious little morsel so untarnished?” he said, running one sharp nail over her cheek. 

“More of a man than you, obviously,” she spat. He raised his eyebrows and cast **Silence**.

“You really are more feisty than I gave you credit for. This is such a waste. Perhaps I should have gone after Barbara instead?” Damien turned his back and began to lay a circle on the ground. Sionnan struggled against her bonds. Hieronymus had been discussing teaching her binds and their countermeasures, but they hadn't actually done much practical work. Maybe… She could wiggle her fingers enough to cast something. A spell like Flame Whip might be accurate enough. 

There was a flash of red light and Damien screamed a curse. By sheer luck, she'd not only severed the bind on her hands but had hit him square across his unprotected back. “How is that even possible?!” he yelled, rounding on her. “You're not taking Red magic!” Then the door exploded inward. 

“You shall not have her, demon,” growled the shadow silhouetted against the smoke. With a pulse of magic, the rest of her bonds and the silence were dispelled. Sionnan gave a cry of relief from where she’d been thrown to ground as Professor Grabiner advanced on Damien like the Grim Reaper.

“Grabiner?!” the demon boy exclaimed, scooting rapidly backward and getting to his feet. “I never expected you, of all people, to be the one. It makes a certain sort of twisted sense, I suppose,” he said with an unpleasant scowl. “But it doesn't matter. I've got powerful friends now, and one washed-up duelist isn't going to stand in my way.” A cloud of shadow began to rise up behind him, dark and menacing, but Grabiner did not seem at all concerned.

“Why don't you try me?” he said, casting away his cloak. A net of orange light pulsed around him and something rather like fiery wings unfurled from his back.

Sionnan thought she heard Damien curse in a horrified realization of his miscalculation, but something rather more pressing had caught her attention. Somehow, a glowing portal had appeared underneath her, and now it was pulling her in like quicksand. “Hieronymus!”

Grabiner’s eyes opened wide. "The Spiral Gate,” he said, in shock and horror, but he did not hesitate. A sweep of his hand knocked Damien away like a ragdoll, and he sprinted, leaping after her as the Gate pulled her in. His hand grasped hers, and she had a final vision of his face, white and terrified. “Don't let go,” he said, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This was a long chapter. I realize I'm fudging the timeline a little bit but I really wanted to get things moving along. Thank you everyone who reads and comments.


	6. Consanguinuity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Otherworld, their bond and their skills are put to the test. To survive long enough to escape, they swear an oath that will bind them together in a much more permanent fashion.

He remembered. Not that he had ever forgotten, but now it came back with vivid clarity. Another small hand in his. In most ways, Violet and Sionnan could not have been more different. His first love had been dark and wild, coils of inky hair, eyes like the secret heart of the earth, and dark brown skin, but more than that, she had been full of fire. Like him, she had been angry at the hand life had dealt her, but she’d be damned if she let that stop her. Everything was an adventure, and if someone told her she couldn't do something, you could be sure she would do it anyway, out of spite.

But on that day, she had been pale and wide-eyed. Her hand had trembled inside his own, and he had promised to protect her. To see things made right, as much as they could be. And he had failed, in a place much like this one, a twisted, iridescent landscape where the very air chimed with the sound of bells. A place of dreams and nightmares. The Otherworld.

This time he would not fail. Grabiner looked down at the young woman in his arms, her fair hair sticking up in every direction, the pale line of her throat moving slightly with her breath, and he swore he would do anything, _give everything_ to ensure that she returned to the mortal world healthy and whole. Because he loved her, there was no getting around it. She had given him her hand and stolen his heart, and now they would have to weather his greatest fear before they could even consider moving forward.

She stirred, whimpering against his chest, and he allowed himself to feel a moment of relief. He had known, intellectually, that she had simply passed out from fear and the shock of going through a planar gate, but in this situation, his rational mind wasn't exactly in the driver’s seat.

“Hieronymus?” The sound of his name still had an effect on him, even in this desperate circumstance, and when she looked up at him with her wide, blue eyes - not really blue, he decided, but bluish-gray, like the underside of a raincloud - he wanted to kiss her, to reassure himself in a visceral way that she was real and alive. But he resisted this impulse, only tightening his arms around her briefly. Her eyes darted around, taking stock of their surroundings before settling on his face again. “Where are we?”

“We are in the Otherworld.”

*************************

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then she felt a thrill of fear. Sionnan remembered what Petunia Potsdam had said about the Otherworld and immature souls. This was a dangerous place for her, but then, that was nothing compared to what she knew her husband was feeling. She could see it in his haunted expression, in the way she could see the white all around his irises, in how the lines of his face stood stark against the pallor of his skin. She reached up and touched his cheek, and his eyes closed.

“Are you all right?” she asked, then realized it was probably silly. “I mean, I know you aren't. I'm sorry, Hieronymus. This is all my fault. You told me to be careful of Damien, but I went with him anyway.” She could have said more, but then he surprised her by laying his finger over her lips. He was not smiling, of course not, but he looked more present, more like himself.

“Stop. I am not all right, but I will be, once we make it out of here. You have nothing to be sorry for. Even I did not imagine Mr. Ramsey would attempt to steal you soul _in the gym._ And no one could have predicted the appearance of a Gate.” He moved his finger and stood up, pulling her to her feet with him. “Self-recrimination will get us less than nowhere. We need to find an exit gate.”

“We can't just teleport there?” she asked as he took her hand and grasped it firmly in his own. She knew this was likely for safety reasons, and it was not really the proper time to be giddy, but she couldn't quite stop the joyful flutter in her stomach. 

“Teleport spells do not work in the Otherworld because it is not strictly a material plane. Only planar gates tied to specific locations permit travel between distant points. It would take too long to cast the return gate myself, and attract too much attention. We will just have to move quickly.”

“So where are we going?” she asked, jogging to keep up with his long strides. His eyes flicked over to her, and he slowed his pace.

“With any luck? The Midgard Bazaar. It’s in an area that’s not particularly hostile to humans, and sees a lot of traffic from the mortal world. But it’s difficult to guess where we are until we come to a crossroads. Location spells in the Otherworld aren’t reliable.”

“Does any magic work properly here?” she asked, somewhat irritated to discover that the magic she was used to did not function in the land of magic.

“Magic works fine in the Otherworld,” he answered in a distracted tone. “In some ways, it works better, but the methods are often different. Most offensive spells, however, and personal wards and shields, behave normally no matter what plane they are cast on.” She felt him tense, halting in mid-step and looking in all directions before starting to move again, his pace quickened.

She would’ve asked what was going on, but he spoke before she could. “We’re being followed. Stay close to me.”

********************

 _It would be barghests,_ Grabiner thought bitterly as he dragged his uncomplaining wife along behind him. They were not dangerous one on one, but they hunted in packs, and they were famously tenacious. They never gave up on a quarry until they caught it or were killed. _At least it isn’t goblins._ He wasn’t sure he would have been able to handle that, psychologically. 

But they had reached the crossroads. He threw aside his bulky school robe and rolled up his sleeves. Sionnan looked at him like a rare animal she wanted to photograph, which would have struck him as funny at any other time. “Keep your back to the stone, so they cannot come at us from behind,” he said, indicating the lone monolith that marked the road and served as a signpost. “Cast your strongest ward. As soon as I attack one, they will all come in a rush.” Her eyes were wide with fear. She could see as well as he could that the area, growing dim as evening came on, was filled with gleaming eyes. 

But despite all that, her expression was set, and he saw, as he sketched out a trap spell on the ground, the shield shimmer into place. His preparations finished, he stepped inside the boundaries of the spell, feeling it shiver against his skin as if she touched him with a thousand invisible fingers. Her magic felt like her, cool and gentle as a deep pool of water, and he closed his eyes against the slightly ticklish sensation. Now, of all times, he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. He pressed his back against the cold stone, shoulder to shoulder with his wife, and he could feel her trembling. Grabiner reached out and squeezed her hand. He wanted to tell her that everything would be all right, but he couldn’t give her false comfort. Even if they won this battle, which was still in question, it was only the first. 

“Are you prepared?” She nodded. There was nothing more they could do but fight. The circle of eyes was closing in. He could hear the chorus of their unholy growls. He cast **Flame Whip** and an arc of white-hot energy flashed from his hand, slashing two of the leading creatures across the face. One fell over instantly, and the other lay on its side howling for several seconds before it too went silent. 

As he had predicated, the pack charged forward. They hit the trap spell, and it exploded, sending several hounds flying in streaks of orange flame, along with the smoky remains of some others. It was gruesome and effective, but it did not stop the rest. Beside him, Sionnan was almost finished casting, and as the spell broke over them, he almost smiled. **Rainstorm** was not ordinarily considered an offensive spell, but if used in concert with others… The rain poured down on the barghests, but the shield kept rain out as well as the fae hounds, at least for the time being. Grabiner cast **Chain Lightning** and electricity crackled over the wet ground, striking some of the hounds dead instantly and stunning others.

Meanwhile, Sionnan cast **Blizzard.** Ice spikes hurtled through the air, and the wet ground froze instantly. The barghests who were not impaled had difficulty finding purchase on the ground, which impaired their ability to attack the shield. But it was weakening. Grabiner felt a moment of indecision. He could reinforce the shield, but there weren’t that many creatures remaining. They would be difficult to chase down one on one, but he might catch them all at once if he was lucky. He cast **Infernal Arc** and a spray of flames splashed out from his hand. Three more hounds hit the ground. The shield disintegrated with the sound of breaking glass. The barghests heard it too, and they charged forward. In his mind's eye, he saw Violet fall under a goblin blade.

Grabiner darted away from the stone, to the audible alarm of his wife, but he wanted to pull the remaining creatures away from her and gather them in one place. Using himself as bait seemed like the logical solution. When the fight was over, he would be happy to have her yell at him. One barghest fell to Sionnan’s **Ice Spike** but four more converged on him. A well-placed **Fireball** took care of three, but the last launched itself at him, nearly knocking him over as it grabbed ahold of his wrist, which made it rather difficult to cast. He cried out as the barghest’s teeth ground against his bones.

Then there was a crack and flash, and the creature fell dead with a final whimper. He looked back at Sionnan, but she was already running to him, her expression a mixture of concern and anger. Drained of energy, he sank to his knees in the mud, and she knelt down in front of him, glancing at his face before looking at the wound on his arm. She shook her head and wordlessly took his hand in both of her own. A moment later, he felt the soothing balm of healing magic putting him back together. That done, she raised her face and scowled at him. “What happened to keeping your back against the stone? Sometimes I think you ignore your own advice just to be infuriating.”

“I wanted to lead them away from you,” he said, too weary to be witty or argumentative. Her arms came around his waist, and for a moment, he allowed himself the simple pleasure of her warm and reassuring presence.

“We were doing fine. You didn’t need to play the hero, Hieronymus,” she said, only half-teasingly.

“I get so few opportunities. You ought to let me live a little,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and murmuring this not entirely serious remark against her hair. They sat there for a few more heartbeats in silence, reveling in the relief of being alive, but Grabiner finally forced himself to stand. “Come on, we can’t stay here.”

“They’ll just keep coming, won’t they?” she asked, and he could tell she had finally realized the enormity, and perhaps, the ultimate futility, of what they would have to accomplish. He took her hand again. It was poor comfort, but it was all that he had.

“Barghests, and creatures like them, are attracted to the energy of pure, young, souls. That’s one of the reasons demons covet them so much. You’re like a rare delicacy. Once you become old and bitter like me, your soul will lose much of the temptation it holds for such creatures.”

“I don’t think your soul is old and bitter,” she said quietly.

“I assure you that, in the Otherworld, I am as psychically appealing as month-old beef jerky,” he said. He would never wish for his wife to be other than she was, in general, because he loved even the most irritating parts of her, and if he was being honest, there weren’t that many. But in that moment, he wished very much that she was just a little older, a little harder and more jaded, as she had every right to be, considering. Just enough to make her less attractive to all the things that waited in the darkness. If only he could throw his ugly, angry heart over her like cloak, to shield her from the sight of others. And then he remembered something. A tidbit of knowledge from his ill-spent youth that he never thought he would need or use. 

He stopped in his tracks and turned to her, his mind working overtime. “Do you trust me?”

****************************

Sionnan had begun to be concerned that the Otherworld was driving Hieronymus slightly mad. He had been very dashing, tossing away his robes to do battle with the barghests, and she thought they had worked well together, but he had darted out into the thick of things like a lunatic. Then, right in the middle of a strange conversation wherein he'd compared himself to beef jerky, he'd stopped and asked her if she trusted him.

Even if she thought he was behaving a bit oddly, it was a question with an easy answer. “Yes, of course, I trust you.” 

He nodded and led them off the side of the road, into a grove of crystalline trees with rainbow leaves that tinkled like glass chimes as they passed. “We are going to undertake a ritual,” he said, his voice taking on the lecturing tone he often used in class. “It is old, fae magic, and you will probably find it strange, but if successful, you will no longer be a tempting target for creatures here. However, you will be permanently bound to me and I to you, in a metaphysical sense, if not a physical one.” 

They came to a stop in the center of a grove of the prismatic trees. It was dark, and the moon rose overhead, full and orange. He took both of her hands in both of his. It would have been romantic, if she hadn't been keenly aware of the danger. Nothing moved in the forest at present, but Sionnan fancied she could feel eyes on her. “Obviously, this kind of oath-taking requires the consent of both parties,” he said, meeting her eyes with even more intensity than usual.

Not that it mattered particularly, because she loved Hieronymus with all of her being, but she did feel she ought to know what she was getting into. “How permanent, exactly, are we talking about?”

“Forever,” he said, with no inflection in his voice. She suspected he didn't want to influence her opinion one way or the other. Perhaps he didn't even know what opinion to have. 

She nodded. “Very well. I give my consent.” He opened his mouth, maybe to protest, but he closed it again and nodded, releasing her hands and beginning to scratch out magical symbols in the dirt.

“This is ancient magic, as I said, hearkening back to a time when the fae were little more than particularly intelligent animals,” he said. She watched him work, half fascinated and half anxious, knowing that he spoke partly to educate her about what they were about to do and partly to soothe his own anxiety. “It is an oath bound in blood. As we are not in possession of a ritually consecrated blade, we will have to do things the old-fashioned way.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Which is?”

He stood up straight and eyed her with a look that managed to be earnestly serious and slightly amused at her expense. “With our teeth. We will bite each other to the point of drawing blood.”

Sionnan could find no words to reply. She gaped soundlessly at him, her face flooding with heat. At least it was dark. He seemed to accept this response as natural and bent back to drawing on the ground. A moment later, with a murmured word, a glowing circle sprang to life around them. She could see a shimmering dome of energy overhead and recognized it as an instance of **Sanctuary**. Nothing, magic or otherwise, would be able to come through the barrier, in or out, until Grabiner dispelled it. Not a long-term solution, but perfect for undertaking a complex ritual like this without interruption.

He came and took her hand again. “Are you prepared? Once we begin, there will be no turning back.” This, she knew, had a deeper significance than it first seemed. Unlike the vows they had sworn months before, this could not be undone in a year and a day. This was a commitment to walk the same road as far as it went, no matter the hardship. She felt like it should be her asking him, since of the two of them, he had always been the more reluctant about their relationship. But now wasn't the time. 

“I’m ready,” she said. Her heart was already racing. He led her to a smaller circle in the center of the main spell. 

“We will kneel here, facing each other. Kneeling is not strictly necessary, but fainting is often a side effect of blood-oaths, so consider this a preventive measure against head injuries.” He might have intended to make her laugh, but her mind was too busy fretting about what would come next. 

“I will say my vow, and then you will speak the same, with changes that I believe will be obvious. Then we will each offer the third finger of our left hands, the intention being to draw blood at approximately the same time. If the ritual is successful, the circle will change from green to red and the bond will be complete.”

 _It’s almost like we’re getting married again, only with… biting,_ Sionnan thought, on the verge of nervous laughter. “All right. I understand.” They knelt in the grass, and she noticed, with idle fascination, that every time one of them shifted, the smell of mint rose from the crushed plants beneath them. The moon hung almost directly behind her husband’s head, which was disappointing, because she couldn’t make out his expression, although she felt there was something different about him that she couldn’t quite describe. But she could see him hold out his hands to her and she placed her hands within.

His fingers gripped hers lightly as he began to speak, his voice low and clear. “Let the Land, Sea, and Sky bear witness to this, my vow. I, Hieronymus Idris Grabiner, bind myself to this woman, willingly, without malice or deceit. May our spirits never be parted, from now until the end of time.”

Sionnan took a deep breath. Someone’s hands were trembling, and she wasn’t honestly sure at this point whose. “Let the Land, Sea, and Sky bear witness to this, my vow. I, Sionnan Lyra Grabiner, bind myself to this man, willingly, without malice or deceit. May our spirits never be parted, from now until the end of time.” The glowing lines of the circle seemed to pulse in response, but now they came to the part of the ritual that most concerned her. Her heart pounded as she brought his hand up to her mouth. It felt ridiculous and slightly illicit, and besides all that, she wasn’t sure she would be able to bite him hard enough to draw blood.

But there was nothing else to do. She closed her eyes and brought the dry, somewhat salty skin of his finger between her teeth, even as she felt the warmth of his mouth around her own finger. She shivered, and just as she felt a sharp sting of pain, she bit down as hard as hard as she could. The warm taste of iron flowed over her tongue as he pulled his hand back, but then it rested against her cheek. She opened her eyes, and she could have sworn she saw his eyes glowing gold in the dim light. “Let this kiss be the seal upon our vows,” he said roughly, and before she could react, his mouth met hers. It was not quite as chaste as the kiss at their wedding, because, while brief, it was fierce and full of emotion. “So mote it be,” he murmured, and she felt overcome with weakness. 

They crumpled to the ground together. The circled glowed with red light, pulsing three times before it disappeared. 

*********************

There was light in the sky when Sionnan finally awoke. It was all very confusing for a moment, because she was lying on the ground, which smelled faintly of spearmint. Above her, she could see the telltale shimmer of a spell in the air, and the ‘pillow’ under her head was undeniably someone’s arm. The memories came back in a flood. She and Hieronymus were in the Otherworld, and they had sworn a blood oath to be together forever because he believed it would keep her safe from monsters. He had kissed her in a way that made her toes curl inside her shoes. That could only mean one thing about the identity of her pillow.

She rolled over slowly, but when she saw him, she clapped her hand over her mouth to keep a surprised scream from escaping. It was certainly Hieronymus Grabiner. Only it wasn’t… quite. He looked younger, for one thing. Not in the normal way that sleep might erase the lines from his face, but like he could conceivably be no older than eighteen. Also, his hair was a slightly different color. It had always been a dark, muted brown, spilling out from under his hat in a riot of loose curls. But now it was black, black as a raven’s wing, reflecting blue and purple highlights in the sunlight. Most importantly, she could not fail to notice the tip of a pointed ear peeking out through those jetty locks.

What did that mean? Could the Fair Folk abduct someone in their sleep? But she could see the smear of blood on his left hand, so this was definitely the man she had sworn the oath with last night, and she would have sworn before anyone that he was the same man she had married in the school dungeon two months previously. He opened his eyes. They were no longer brown, but brilliant gold. The scowl however, was the same. “What, in heaven’s name, is wrong with you?” His voice was undeniably his. She didn’t know whether or not to be relieved.

“You… look… different,” she managed to squeak out. His face relaxed, and it looked like he was on the verge of laughter.

“I apologize. I suppose I should have warned you. My mother is fae. My parentage is not widely known, and as I prefer to keep it that way, I use a glamour to change my appearance. However, as such a spell could be construed as a form of deception, I had to dismiss it so that the ritual would succeed.” He sat up and looked at her searchingly. “Does it bother you that much?”

The explanation coupled with the anxious look on his face dispelled her worries, and she shook her head. “When I first saw you, I was worried you’d been abducted in the night, just like in a storybook. But it doesn’t bother me." In point of fact, she thought he'd gone from handsome in an average, scholarly way, to ridiculously good-looking, but she was afraid he might be offended by that. Either way, it didn't change who he was. "So, this is your true appearance?"

“In a manner of speaking. The difference is less striking in the mortal world because the magic in the Otherworld enhances certain aspects of fae blood. But even at home the ears would be a dead giveaway.” He stood and offered her his hand. 

“Can I ask why you don’t want people to know about your mother? It seems to me that most magical people accept those of Other parentage fairly readily.”

“Partly because I’ve been in the habit my whole life. I think my father found some benefit in keeping it a secret, and now it feels too late to reveal it. But also because politics in the Otherworld is complex, and I would rather not be involved.” He dismissed the spell protecting them. The dawn glowed rosy gold all around them as they walked back to the road. “The marker says we can reach the Midgard Bazaar in an hour. Let us be off before something else goes wrong.”

********************************  
It was eight o’clock in the morning when Petunia Potsdam felt yet another disturbance in the planar wards she had recast just the afternoon before. She jumped out of her chair, wand in hand, ready to do battle but hoping against hope that there wouldn’t be a need. When she had come into the gym on Friday afternoon she hadn’t been sure what to expect, and her heart had sunk at what she had discovered. Hieronymus had been right about Damien Ramsey, right in the worst way, and now his wife had been pulled into the Otherworld and he had gone after her, because he could not do otherwise. It felt like another tragedy just waiting to crest the horizon, and she had pushed him into it, pushed them both, because she was a romantic at heart, and she wanted a happy ending for Hieronymus Grabiner.

But there was a chance, however slim, that everything would go right, and this would be the catalyst that he needed to bring him past his grief and into the great wizard that she knew that he was. All she could do was hope. So she pushed opened the brand new door and saw the Spiral Gate collapse in on itself and wink out of existence. At the very least, there did not seem to be an army of demons waiting. Petunia hurried forward, and saw one small form slumped against a pillar. Everything she could imagine as a reason was sad or horrifying. But as she got closer, the sight resolved into something that made her sag with relief. 

The person against the pillar was none other than Sionnan Grabiner, and she was not alone. Her husband was sprawled out on the floor with his head in her lap. She was stroking his hair.

“Sionnan! My goodness, are you two all right? When I found you’d gone through the Spiral Gate, I feared the worst.”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little weary, but cheerful. “I think Hieronymus is just exhausted,” she added, smiling fondly down at him. “It’s been a long day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! Thanks for the kudos and comments!


	7. Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sionnan talks with the Headmistress about the implications of the soul bond. A school picnic and a confession.

Petunia let out a relieved sigh and smiled down at the both of them. “I can see that we have quite a lot to discuss. But first things first. We have to wake up poor Hieronymus.” Sionnan frowned in response. It was just that he had been through so much. Of course, they both had, but she knew it had been more difficult for him, mentally as well as emotionally. He tended to hide his pain, to carry it alone, and she wanted to give him this one moment of peace.

“I know you want to let him sleep, dear, but as comfortable as your lap may be, I don’t think he wants _everyone_ seeing him look like a fairy prince.” Sionnan looked down at him again. He was right; his appearance was less striking outside of the Otherworld. It was only slightly different than his usual self, younger but not quite so boyish, and his hair, though still black, wasn't shimmering in the light. She imagined that when he opened his eyes, they would be a muted amber rather than molten gold. But the ears were unmistakable. Plus, there was the fact that he was dreadfully rumpled, with grass in his hair and dirt on his knees, with his school robes and his hat nowhere to be seen.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, sighing. On the one hand, she did wish more people saw Hieronymus as he truly was, his kindness and his humor especially, but on the other, she thought that if everyone knew what that she knew, she'd have more competition for his affection than she wanted.

“I'll just zap him with a quick energizing spell, enough to get him into his own bed at least,” Potsdam said, twirling her wand with a smile. A small circle of Green magic flickered on the air, and Grabiner stirred.

His eyes fluttered open, a sort of dull brass color, much as Sionnan had expected. “Did we make it?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“Yes, we’re back at Iris. Everything is all right,” she said, smiling down at him. One of her hands was resting across his chest, and he brought his own hand over it, pressing her fingers to his heart. He closed his eyes in evident relief.

“Don't go back to sleep, Hieronymus. You don't really want to take a nap in the gym,” the Headmistress said.

He groaned at the sound of her voice, but he sat up. “Where is that demon boy, Ramsey? We have some things to discuss.”

“Gone, teleported to parts unknown by the time I arrived. I'll send Finch to look for him, now that you've returned, but you're in no shape to go anywhere except to bed.”

“You are not my mother, Petunia. I can take care of myself,” he grumbled, but as he was receiving pointed glares from both Potsdam and his wife, he shook his head in acquiescence. “But if it will keep you from nagging me, I will go sleep.” He said that, but he seemed markedly unwilling to let go of Sionnan’s hand, and despite the fact that she also wanted him to rest, she now felt reluctant to let him leave.

“I'll take care of your wife, Hieronymus, never fear,” Petunia said, giving his shoulder a light shove. “We can discuss later what the future may hold.” He nodded and released her fingers, though Sionnan had the impression that, if they'd been alone, he would have had much more to say. Once he had finally left the gym, Petunia turned to her with a gentle smile.

“I’m sure you're tired too, lambkin, but why don’t you just come with me, and get cleaned up first. You probably won't have eaten since yesterday, and if you're alert enough to converse, I certainly would like to speak with you.”

Sionnan nodded. There was no doubt that she was tired, but it was more physical and mental exhaustion rather than actual sleepiness. And she _was_ starving and desperately thirsty. They hadn't dared risk trying anything in the Midgard Bazaar.

The Headmistress patted her shoulder and they started out of the gym themselves when they were practically bowled over by a frantic Ellen Middleton. “Headmistress, I just saw the strangest man walk out of here. He looked like an elf or something, only covered in dirt, but he nodded to me like he _knew me_ , and when I saw the gym was open I… Sionnan!” 

She happily accepted the tackling hug of her roommate. “I’m fine, Ellen, really. Professor Grabiner kept me safe.”

Ellen blinked, and her mouth made a silent ‘o’ as she came to a shocking realization. “Was that Professor Grabiner, just now?”

“That,” Petunia said with a grin, “was Hieronymus Grabiner as he truly is, rather than the mask he wears for the benefit of your education. And since you’re here, you may as well come to breakfast. I have some things to discuss with Sionnan, but I daresay that the time for secrecy about certain matters has passed, and it will be easier for her to tell the story once.”

******************

Sionnan sighed as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Though she certainly wouldn't have chosen to almost have her soul stolen or be sucked into the Otherworld, getting to use Potsdam’s bathroom almost made it worth it. The school bathroom weren't exactly _bad_ , but they were dreary and communal; this bathroom was full of sunlight, and whimsically decorated like a fairy’s garden. The wallpaper looked like climbing ivy, and all of the fixtures were fashioned like butterflies with beautiful enameled wings or fanciful flowers. Plus the shower had amazing water pressure. Being in charge obviously had its perks.

Once dressed, she ventured out into the main room where Ellen and Petunia were already sitting at the table with teacups and a selection of muffins and scones that were so fresh that Sionnan could smell their warmth. Petunia handed her a mug filled with coffee as soon as she had seated herself, and the sugar bowl was already in front of her. Ellen was practically squirming with the effort of waiting until she got settled to start asking questions. Sionnan couldn't help but grin. “You may as well say whatever you want to say. You look like you're about to explode.”

“How could you not tell me that you got _married_ to Professor Grabiner?! I thought we were friends. I mean, that is kind of a big deal,” Ellen said, though she seemed more stunned than angry.

“He said he would expel me if I told anyone,” Sionnan said, somewhat irritated by the implication that she had neglected to mention it out of some sort of lack of trust. “And it wasn't like it was a romantic thing. I blundered into one of his spells by accident. We had to get married so his family’s pet djinn wouldn't devour me. To tell you the absolute truth, when it happened, I was fairly sure it had ruined whatever chance I had at even being _friendly_ with him.”

“Well, that has certainly proved not to be the case,” Petunia said, chuckling. “If I’m not mistaken about the mark on your finger, it seems Hieronymus has declared himself at last.”

Sionnan looked down at the silver-white line on her third finger, like a scar, except she knew that it wasn't. There was no way a cut left by teeth would be that neat, but the actual wound had healed as if it had never been. What was left was this mark, a ring made of her own flesh, likely visible to no one but herself and the man who had made it. And evidently, Petunia Potsdam. “I'm not sure what you're saying. I mean, we did that ritual because Hieronymus said it would keep the creatures in the Otherworld from being interested in me.” 

“A rather ingenious idea, if drastic. By initiating a soul bond with you, he has concealed your immature soul with his own, rather like diluting a strong liquor by mixing it with something weaker. The content of the spirit is still there, but obscured,” Petunia said, thoughtful but still smiling.

Ellen gaped. “A soul bond? I didn’t even know that was possible. I guess I assumed that if the concept of a soulmate was even real, it wouldn't be something you could create artificially.” She frowned like she found the idea disappointing. Sionnan wondered if her quieter roommate wasn't a bit of a romantic at heart.

“I wouldn't say it is artificial,” Potsdam said, not unkindly. “The ritual would not succeed if there were no emotions to support the bond being created. I'm sure Hieronymus never mentioned this, as he wouldn't consider it important, but there are many different types of soul bonds, and the kind of relationship they are meant to support is conveyed by the placement of the mark when making the oath. You can invoke the bond of a sibling by marking the palm, for example, and there are also ways to invoke a bond where one of the partners is subordinate to the other. I'm sure you are both aware of the legends surrounding vampirism?” Both girls nodded, though they were confused by what seemed to be an abrupt change in subject. 

“That originated from a habit that certain fairy Courts had of soul-bonding humans or lesser fae to themselves in a manner where the dominant partner marked the neck of the subordinate. It was a sort of slavery, wherein the more powerful being had control over the bonded partner. It sounds frightening, doesn't it? A soul bond is not necessarily romantic. It can, and often was, used to bind and exploit people against their will.”

“But Hieronymus would never-!” Sionnan protested. The Headmistress held up her hand and continued speaking.

“Any type of soul bond would have sufficed to protect Sionnan in the Otherworld, and, incidentally, make her much less attractive to demons like Damien Ramsey. There are literally hundreds of possibilities in the ways two souls might be joined. But what Hieronymus _chose_ was a bond between equals, a bond of love, signified in the same way that a married couple declares their allegiance to one another. Anyone with knowledge of fae magic will see those marks and know that you are a mated pair, so to speak. And it will always be there, no matter how many lives you live. You are fated to be together, and if separated, you will yearn for each other, perhaps without even knowing what you're missing.”

Sionnan blushed crimson. She had felt, in her heart, that it had been a important moment, but even so, she hadn't realized the true implications. Setting aside the idea of reincarnation for the moment, because that was overwhelming, the fact that he had chosen a bond of love over a myriad of available options was extremely gratifying as well as moving. “He warned me that we would be bound to each other forever, and I gave my consent, but I suppose I didn't really understand what it meant. Not that I regret my choice,” she added, looking up at the other two women. “Only now I feel I ought to have said something more.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk about it, now,” Petunia replied, smiling gently. “But that brings me back to what I was saying before. I'll speak with Professor Grabiner when he wakes up, but I think the time for secrecy about your marriage has passed. Because of the bond between you, you will now both feel physical discomfort if you are separated for too long. If he were to continue pretending to merely be your teacher, it could end up causing more trouble than admitting your relationship openly.”

“Are you sure?” Sionnan asked nervously. “I have a feeling some people won't take it very well.” She imagined Virginia Danson’s face when she said this and winced. “I don't want everyone thinking Hieronymus is a bad person. I think he feels guilty enough.”

“Do you think Professor Grabiner is a bad person, Miss Middleton?” Potsdam asked, turning to Ellen with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Your honest opinion, please.”

“No,” Ellen said, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I've always thought that he acts the way he does to keep us all safe, even if he's not terribly friendly. It seems like he's done all of these things in order to protect Sionnan, and I think if he wanted to exploit her feelings for him, he could've done so long ago, but he's chosen to approach her as an equal. However, I don't know that everyone will see things the same way.”

“Very well spoken. And you are correct, of course, there will be plenty of others who will see this bond as wrong, even evil. But I believe that most of the Academy, at least, will come around, and if they have even a few supporters like you, they’ll be able to weather the storm.”

“But, Headmistress, there's one thing you never explained,” Ellen interjected with a frown. “Is Professor Grabiner an elf or not?”

Petunia laughed. “Of all the things to be concerned about… His mother is a fae of some importance, but I would suggest you never speak of it, to him or anyone. It's not information he is comfortable sharing.” 

************************

Later, Ellen and Sionnan walked back to the dorm together. Her roommate was silent almost the whole way there, apparently thinking hard about all the new information she'd just received, but when they were at the door to their room, she finally spoke. “So, you're really in love with Professor Grabiner?”

Sionnan smiled. “I wasn’t sure of it myself until a few days ago, but yes, I definitely am. He's a remarkable man when you get past the prickly exterior.”

“He is kind to you, then?” Ellen said, looking relieved. “I meant what I said about him not being a bad person, but, I mean, he can be terrifying when he's angry, and I suppose I can't even imagine him being… romantic.”

“He is not the sort of person to talk about his feelings, I suppose, but he's always showing that he cares,” she said as they went back into their room. The journal he'd given her on Valentine's Day was lying out on the desk, as if to underscore her words.

“Does that mean…” Ellen’s face had turned an alarming shade of mauve. “That you've done _things_ with him? I know it's none of my business, it's only I've been wondering what it's like, you know, to really be in love with someone. I don't think I understand it,” she said, all the words coming out in a rush as she stared at her feet.

“We did kiss,” Sionnan said haltingly. “Once at the wedding, and once last night, when we made our oath. Both times it was part of the ritual. But I don't think that really what being in love is all about. I mean, I liked kissing him, and I wouldn't mind doing more of it, but it’s more about how I know he’ll always be there if I need him. How he held my hand when he knew I was afraid, but he never lied to me, or told me things would be all right when they weren't. And I like the way he smiles when he's trying not laugh, and so I just want to keep making him laugh every day.”

“I think I'd fall over from shock if I ever saw Professor Grabiner laugh,” Ellen said, but she looked pleased and somewhat thoughtful.

“I will admit, however, that knowing that you love someone, and that they love you, does seem to make kissing much more exciting,” Sionnan said with a grin.

Ellen blushed and shook her head. “That's enough information for me. The Headmistress said you ought to rest, so just get into bed, and keep your thoughts about kissing your _husband_ to yourself.”

“You wanted to know,” she replied cheerfully, but she did get into bed. And she thought a bit about love and kissing, and what it meant to be with Hieronymus Grabiner forever and fell asleep. 

***************************

The next morning, they were informed that everyone still at school was invited to attend a picnic out in the apple orchard at lunchtime. Sionnan was interested in the idea of a picnic but was at first unsure if she wanted to attend. Because, although she felt somewhat ridiculous about it, the need to see her husband, _her soulmate now_ , was like an itch under her skin.

Potsdam knew the problem without being told. “Never fear. I told your husband that his attendance was mandatory,” she said, her smile deceptively sweet.

“You know, Petunia, you really aren't the harmless little old lady that you’d like everyone to believe,” Sionnan said, chuckling. The Headmistress didn't say anything, but her smile widened slightly.

“However much he may try to deny it, Hieronymus is just as eager to see you as you are to see him. Partly, that's a side effect of the soul bond that will diminish somewhat as time passes.” Sionnan did not ask what the other part might be, electing to hope, with good reason she thought, that he also wanted to see her because he missed her.

She and Ellen dressed in jeans and hooded sweatshirts, as the weather, though sunny, was not precisely warm, and headed out to the orchard. Different colored blankets were spread all over the grass like a bizarre sort of patchwork quilt, each with their own wicker picnic basket, right out of a children’s book or cartoon. Only a small group of students, mostly upperclassmen, had stayed at school over Spring Break, and they quickly claimed blankets on the far edge, leaving Ellen and Sionnan alone with an unfamiliar boy wearing the Toad crest. He already seemed shy, haltingly introducing himself as Conor, but when their piece of cloth was also suddenly occupied by Petunia Potsdam, he went completely silent. 

“Mind if we join you, dearies?” she asked cheerfully, despite the fact that she had already plopped down on a corner of their flowery blanket.

“Of course not, Headmistress,” Ellen said reasonably. “But who is we? I don’t see anyone else.”

“Professor Grabiner will be here in a moment, dear. I told him if he hadn’t arrived in five minutes I was going to send a flock of bluebirds into his room to pester him until he did. But I also told him one wasn’t allowed to wear a school uniform to a picnic, so I suspect that he is fretting over what one is supposed to wear to a picnic.”

“P-p-professor G-grabiner is c-coming here?” Conor said, going pale and starting to visibly sweat.

“Oh, calm down, Mr. O'Niell. He doesn’t bite,” the Headmistress said, patting the boy on the shoulder. Sionnan had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and Ellen gave her an odd look. They hadn’t, after all, discussed the particulars of the soul bonding ritual. “He can be a perfectly nice person, if you’ll stop forgetting your homework quite so often. Just ask his wife.”

Conor looked around, obviously confused as to where such a mythical person might be, and Ellen shook her head in exasperation. Sionnan could only hope her face wasn’t completely red. A moment later, as Petunia was pulling cups of lemonade out of the basket, which was apparently magical, Sionnan spotted the lanky form of her husband walking through the trees. Grabiner appeared to have decided that what one wore to a picnic was a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, couple with blacks slacks and a black vest. He had replaced the glamour and looked human once more, but he had tied his hair back, and she thought he looked quite handsome as he approached their little group. Most of the other students didn’t seem to recognize him.

“Good afternoon, Petunia,” he said. “Mr. O'Niell, Miss Middleton,” he paused, and his eyes settled on Sionnan. He didn’t exactly smile, but his scowl softened. “Mrs. Grabiner.” She beamed up at him, feeling her heart flutter in her chest. He’d never acknowledged their marriage in public before, and though she knew that it was part of the plan, so to speak, she hadn’t expected him to be so direct about it immediately. Conor was gaping; he appeared to have forgotten to breathe, and Ellen seemed to be embarrassed _for_ them, so the Headmistress took charge of the situation. 

“Really, Hieronymus? Only you would wear a three piece suit to a picnic,” Potsdam said, chuckling and shaking her head.

“This is not a three piece suit, as it has neither a jacket nor a tie. This is a vest, Petunia. Just because we are on vacation does not mean I intend to throw all propriety to the four winds,” he replied, waving his hands in exasperation.

“I suppose you wouldn’t even own a pair of blue jeans, would you? Very well, have a seat,” the Headmistress said magnanimously. He sat sideways on the blanket, stretching his long legs off into the grass, and Sionnan felt the foot of space between them was not enough to keep her from being acutely aware of his presence, while simultaneously being too far to quell the indefinable feeling of anxiety that had sprung up during their day of separation. But Potsdam started setting out food, sandwiches, fresh fruit, cut veggies, chips, dip, much more than the five of them could ever eat, and chattering all the while. After sating her hunger and being drawn into a philosophical discussion about whether the magical world was doing itself a disservice by shunning the internet, Sionnan felt at least a bit more relaxed. 

Hieronymus, meanwhile, was unsurprisingly, reading a book. Ellen was still passionately arguing her case to the Headmistress and Conor was watching in the way one might watch a train being derailed, so Sionnan moved closer to her husband, nudging his shoulder with her back. “What are you reading today?”

“Poetry,” he said, not looking up from the book, but his free hand, now somewhat blocked from view by her body, came to rest on top of hers. Their fingers intertwined, and it filled her with deep contentment, quite apart from thought-ending rush of endorphins to her brain. Was this the soul-bond, that she only felt whole when she was with him? 

Still, she was surprised to hear that he would even read poetry. Of course, she was often surprised by what he was truly like because he hid so much of himself from others. “Really, what kind of poetry?” she asked, craning her head to see.

He snapped the book shut, giving her an irritated look, though his cheeks were faintly flushed. “I had no idea you were such a nosy person.”

Of course, now she was _more interested_. “Only when it comes to you,” she said, flashing him a cheeky smile. She could feel the change in the atmosphere, even if she couldn’t quite have named it. The intensity of his gaze stole her breath.

“You know what we really ought to do at a picnic?” Petunia Potsdam’s voice rang out, shattering the moment. Grabiner blinked and released her hand. “We should make flower crowns,” the Headmistress said. 

“Go on,” her husband said, his usual secret smile sliding across his features. “I’ll be here.” It was reassuring as it was meant to be, and Sionnan went over to join the others with only slight reluctance.

“But there aren’t really any flowers out yet,” Ellen was saying. “Not until at least May.”

“That is a bit of a problem,” Petunia agreed, but of course, she was not a witch for nothing, and with a wave of her hand, daises started to rain from the air. A localized shower of flowers, that luckily, just managed to exclude Professor Grabiner from its radius. He watched them with raised eyebrows for a moment before returning to his book.

After a brief conversation where Potsdam convinced Conor O'Niel that boys could make flower crowns if they wanted to, she showed all three of them how to weave the daises together into a wreath. It was a surprisingly meditative task, and when Sionnan had finally constructed a circle of flowers large enough to be placed on her head, she felt quite pleased with herself. “You’ve done a lovely job,” Petunia said with a smile. “Don’t you think Hieronymus could use some decoration?”

Sionnan snorted. “I don’t think he wants a flower crown.”

“Oh come now, where’s your sense of fun? If you teleport it directly onto his head, he might even be impressed,” she said, waggling her eyebrows in a challenging way. It was hard to say no to that.

She set the ring of flowers down on the blanket and traced the sigil in the air. It would have to be precise to land on his head and stay without breaking in the process. Ellen was watching her with a sort of horrified interest. With a pulse of blue light, the crown disappeared, and then, before she could even blink, it appeared in the air above Professor Grabiner’s head and fell gently onto it, landing slightly askew like a jaunty hat. He looked up, lips pursed, his eyes immediately alighting upon the guilty face of his wife and the smug smile of Petunia Potsdam.

“Hilarious,” he said, “But ultimately amateurish.” He waved his fingers, murmuring under his breath, and the rest of the daisies on the ground swirled upward on an invisible wind. Some of them wove themselves together, changing color and shape as they did so. After a moment, a crown of borage, some other pale blue bloom, and white bell-shaped flowers settled onto Sionnan’s head. She blushed, but if she'd known anything about the Victorian language of flowers, she would have blushed much harder.

“Honeysuckle and forget-me-not? Very impressive work,” Petunia said. Grabiner arched an eyebrow, and with one last flash of ultraviolet light, the remaining flowers fell to the ground as live, wriggling, garter snakes. Conor shrieked in a voice that could shatter glass. In the commotion that ensued, Hieronymus started to walk away, but Sionnan couldn’t fail to note that he was not walking toward the school but to the field where they usually held their red magic lessons. She didn’t hesitate to follow him.

As soon as they were out of sight of the rest of the students, many of them observing the chaos around the Headmistress with interest, he reached his hand out to her, as if that was what he had planned all along. And perhaps it was. They walked in silence for several minutes, and it was not uncomfortable, but it was… anticipatory. 

Finally Grabiner stopped and turned to face her. His expression was somewhat hesitant. “I would like to test something. I’m afraid that you may find it startling, but I ask you to bear with me.”

“Test what? What do I have to do?” She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected, thought there were many things she had hoped for, but this was neither.

“I suspect our bond has had a side effect that I had not anticipated. You don’t have to do anything. Just relax. If I am correct… well, you will know.” She nodded, and he closed his eyes, not letting go of her hand, and she shifted nervously from foot to foot. It was difficult to be relaxed when you were waiting on tenterhooks for something unknown to happen. Then she heard it. His voice. _Inside her head._ It was not quite like hearing him talk, because there was a sense of emotion behind it, and it felt like the meaning of some words had to be coalesced out of a sea of intention before they could be understood, but he was speaking to her in her mind. But there had been no spell. No polite nudge against her thoughts like **Farspeak**. This just _was_ , like breathing.

 _When I am with you, I feel like a meteor falling to earth. Love is not a strong enough word, and I can’t even say it aloud. You must think I’m a coward, to have sworn to be with you forever, and not even be able to say the truth about my own feelings._ The flow of his thoughts cut off, but it hardly mattered. Her heart already felt full to overflowing, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a coward, Hieronymus,” she said, stepping in the embrace that was waiting for her. His arms wrapped around her back, and she could feel him shaking. “I love you too.” Perhaps she could not be quite as poetic as he could, but she poured all of her feeling into it.

“I know,” he said roughly. “Even if I fail to understand why.” She looked up at him, into his eyes that were dark with emotion, but he spoke before she could voice her protest. “Before you decide to go off on a tangent extolling my virtues, we need to talk about working on your mental shielding. Otherwise we will accidentally learn much more about each other than we ever wished to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and leaving kudos and comments. I really wanted to work the poem I had found for him to read in there somewhere, but it'll have to wait until later.


	8. The Truth In Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Practicing mental shielding brings Grabiner and his wife closer together, but when their marriage is finally made public, things become more difficult.

Spring Break passed more quickly than Grabiner ever remembered it doing so in the past. Of course, he was more busy than he usually was during vacation. Every day, Sionnan came to his room to practice developing her mental shields. She hadn't complained, though she hadn't initially understood why it would be needed. He didn't understand it fully himself.

“Everyone has a natural layer of mental defenses,” he told her. “It is what separates the individual from the rest of existence in the psychic realm. When someone casts the **Farspeak** spell, you feel them push up against that barrier. My suspicion is that, on the magical level, our defenses no longer recognize us a separate entities. In a sense, we are sharing a soul, and thus we are, spiritually, the same person.”

“You want to build an extra layer of defenses so we won't barge into each other's heads on accident?” she asked with a somewhat mischievous grin. He had the thought that she might enjoy barging into his mind on occasion, and the idea made him shiver. Whether it was with anticipation or horror wasn't something he wished to examine too closely. 

“Yes. Whatever you might be thinking, I suspect we would both find it distracting and unpleasant.” Just the few thoughts of hers that he had chanced to hear already _continued_ to distract him. If he was ever going to be able to think clearly again, they would have to sort this out. “As it happens, I already have some mental shielding. It's a skill that is usually taught to older students. Though it is considered highly taboo to spy on another's thoughts without permission, there are certainly both wizards and Other creatures that are capable and willing to do so if they think it will gain them an advantage.”

She had grimaced at that, probably thinking of Damien Ramsey, and so they had started to work. The concept of guarding one's mind was simple. It mainly required exercise. In this case, the brain was a muscle that could be strengthened with effort. They sat in chairs, back to back, because he had found staring directly at her too overwhelming. Of course, he didn't tell her that.

Now, on the last day of break, it had become a sort of game. “If you can keep me out of your head for five minutes, I will answer one personal question.” He had said that yesterday. In truth, her mental shields were now more than adequate to prevent accidental sharing, as long as she remembered to keep them in place. That would simply take time. Now he was teaching her for the pleasure of her company. Petunia had warned him that he would feel some discomfort when his wife was not nearby. He had found that to be an understatement. He _needed_ to see her the same way that he needed oxygen, and he still had not decided how he would address that problem once school was back in session.

“I'm ready,” she said from behind his head. He turned over the sand timer and began his attack. Her mind was like a garden enclosed by a high stone wall. When they had first began training, this barrier could be knocked over with a touch, and he found he enjoyed strolling through her thoughts. It was a peaceful place, her hopes and dreams floating like patches of sunlight in summer grass. She had not been stingy about sharing these with him, letting him revel in the simple domestic pleasures of the life she imagined. Of a house full of laughter and sunshine, and a garden where bees bumbled among the flowers. Cats sleeping on the windowsills and the sound of children laughing. The first time he had stumbled upon himself in one of these visions, it had shaken him. Surely, he did not belong in this happy life.

But of course he was there. And she made him fit, as if he had never belonged anywhere else, the strands of their lives intertwining effortlessly. The cats slept among his books, and their cloaks hung together on the imaginary coat rack. Once, he had watched a dream of small children chasing fireflies in the grass, and one had turned toward him, a boy with fair hair and eyes the color of tarnished brass, just like his own. He had cried, later that night, when he had lain in his bed alone and wondered why.

Of course, there were dark places in Sionnan’s mind, but in these he did not trespass, and she did not invite him. There were some things, he knew, that were too painful to share. That was why he had been reticent to let her into to his thoughts at all. He was aware that it was unfair of him, but his mind had no dreams, no sunlight. It was a dimly lit attic full of old, dark, memories, and he feared allowing her to see it would somehow dampen her bright spirit. And, though he felt particularly pathetic about it, he worried that if she saw the truth, she would no longer want to be with him. But she had demanded a more equitable exchange and so, here they were.

Now, the wall that separated him from the paradise made of her thoughts was impenetrable and covered in thorns. He prodded it gently with his magic and found it solid, with no obvious weak points. He pushed harder, and to his mingled horror and interest, the barrier between Sionnan’s mind and his began draw him in, like carnivorous gelatin. As it did so, he felt her mental fingers creeping into his thoughts. They did not intrude but instead constrained, binding him in place.

 _Impressive,_ he said, upon finding himself psychically imprisoned in a featureless gray room. He could feel that this place was constructed, somehow, inside his own mind, but held fast by her power.

 _I have no doubt you could escape if you wanted to, but unless you know the trick to it, you'll hurt yourself,_ she said, her words overlaid with playful humor. _I read about this technique in a book I got from the library. Are you really going to make me wait five minutes?_

 _I concede defeat. What do you want to know?_ The gray room dissolved, leaving him once again outside the wall of Sionnan’s mind.

 _What I want,_ she said, with a gentle touch, almost a caress, against his thoughts, _Is for you to let me in. But I won't force you._

He opened his eyes, bringing himself back to reality. The wood of the chair dug into his back and his neck cracked when he raised his head. Around him, dust motes floated in the late morning sunlight. A pot of blue flowers stood out as a splash of color against the piles of books. He let out a sigh and turned his chair around. She was already facing him, her expression pensive. “I’m sorry, Hieronymus. I don't mean to upset you.”

He shook his head and took one of her hands in his. “I am not… upset. It is only that my mind is not a pleasant place. I’m concerned that you will find its contents disturbing.”

She gave him the gentle smile that never failed to warm his heart. “After everything that's already happened, you really think I’ll be scared away that easily?” He didn't answer, rendered speechless by how effortlessly she'd seen through him. “I love you, and I want to know you better, especially since you know everything about me. But I’ll leave it for right now if you answer one question.”

“I did promise you as much,” he agreed, though he felt a faint sensation of dread. There were many things she could ask that he would not want to answer, and now he was honor bound to do so.

‘Very well,” she said, leaning forward eagerly. He steeled himself for the blow. “What is your favorite color?”

**************************

Sionnan knew he expected her to ask something deep and heart-wrenching. She certainly did want to know those things; she wanted to know _everything_ , but the difficult memories and experiences she hoped he would eventually share of his own free will. It was best, she had decided, to start small. So she told him her question, and he _laughed_ , laughed out loud for the first time in their acquaintance, and that was the best thing that had happened all week, at least since the wonderful, miraculous moment when he had told her that he loved her. It was a laugh dry and cracked with disuse, but his eyes crinkled with real mirth, and her heart squeezed in her chest.

Then, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. She felt him pressing at the edge of her thoughts, and this time she let him in. It was a flow of images instead of words, _the petals of a familiar flower, a cloud heavy with rain, her eyes looking up at him, the water in a clear deep well._ When he looked up at her again, his expression was peaceful, if slightly embarrassed. “I’m not sure if I had a favorite color before, but that is certainly what it is now.”

She was smiling when she returned to her room. “I guess he must have been impressed by that shielding technique you've been practicing all week,” Ellen remarked from her usual place at her desk. 

“Oh, he was,” Sionnan agreed. “I think I actually may have frightened him for a moment.” Not that she wanted to scare him, precisely, but she knew it was a mark of achievement. He hadn't expected her to do that, and had been caught unprepared, something which she was sure not many other wizards could say they'd done to Hieronymus Grabiner. “But better than that,” she continued, elated, “I made him laugh, and his favorite color is blue.”

“Whose favorite color is blue?” Virginia Danson demanded to know from the doorway. “You'd better not be talking about Damien.” Sionnan shook her head and Virginia caught her in a fierce, one-armed hug. “You don't know how crazy I was when Potsdam said you'd been sucked into the Otherworld. I didn't even want to go home, but she made me because there was a chance Damien could come back or worse. And then, practically the moment I got back home, I got a letter saying that you were back at school and everything was fine. So you'd better tell me what's going on. Grabby really rescued you?”

Sionnan took a deep breath. The Headmistress was going to tell everyone about their marriage at tomorrow's start of term assembly, but she wanted to tell her roommate everything herself. “You're going to want to sit down,” Ellen chimed in.

As expected, Virginia did not take the news well. “You're _married?!_ To Grabiner? Are you _sleeping_ with him too?”

“No,” Sionnan said, both embarrassed and indignant. “Not that it's any of your business. As I said, romance had very little to do with it then. He married me to protect me.”

“But there's romance now?! Don't you see how _creepy_ that is? He's like forty!” Virginia said, throwing her hands up in the air.

“He's twenty-eight, for gods’ sakes, Virginia.” Sionnan said, rolling her eyes. “He's not that old. And even if he was forty, I don't see how it would matter to you. I love him, and he loves me, and I think that ought to be enough.”

“Grabiner told you that he loves you?” Now Virginia sounded more skeptical than angry.

“What he actually said was that love is not a strong enough word, but yes,” she replied, her cheeks heating even as her heart soared with joy at the memory.

“What? You never told me that!” Ellen said, thunderstruck.”When did that happen?”

“At the picnic. Or after it, I suppose, when you all were dealing with the snakes.” Sionnan answered and Ellen laughed at the memory. Potsdam had handled the matter ably, but Conor O’Niell had to go lie down in his room after nearly fainting. 

“You mean you're okay with this?!” Virginia exclaimed, spinning to face her.

Ellen raised her eyebrows. “I think you're letting your personal issues with Professor Grabiner get in the way of your good sense, Virginia. It's obvious he cares about her, if you pay enough attention. You should have seen him at the picnic on Sunday. He made her a flower crown. Besides, the Headmistress is practically shoving them at each other, so if you trust Potsdam at all, you ought to just mind your own business.”

Virginia blinked several times in rapid succession. “I feel like I'm living in a bizarre alternate dimension. You’re in a relationship with Professor Grabiner, who knows how to make flower crowns, and Potsdam is the head of your cheering section. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me he's handsome and a good kisser.”

“Well, he is,” Sionnan said, laughing lightly. “I mean, both of the times we kissed, it was part of the vows we were swearing, and they were quick, but neither kisses were _bad_.”

“Even I have to admit, he's surprisingly good looking when he's not wearing his school clothes,” Ellen said thoughtfully. “And I swear he almost smiled on Sunday. I never thought I'd see that happen.” 

Virginia could do nothing but shake her head. “I'll believe it when I see it. So I guess it must be Grabiner whose favorite color is blue?” Sionnan smiled at the memory, and her roommate made a face. “Never mind. I want to know what happened with Damien.”

********************

On Monday morning, Petunia Potsdam called everyone to the assembly, but Grabiner did not attend. Instead, he went to breakfast with his wife. He had suggested it himself, trying to think of a way they might both be soothed of the unpleasant anxiety that came from spending too much time apart, and he hoped to protect her from the stares and whispers of the other students for a few hours more. She already seemed anxious, picking at her plate of scrambled eggs with pursed lips. 

“You are nervous.” She looked up at him, sucking her bottom lip in a way he found impossibly endearing. 

“Is it that obvious?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You aren't usually in the habit of dissecting your food like the secret of life might be found within.” She laughed, a sound that plucked at his heart as if it were an over-tuned guitar string. “I am sorry it has come to this. I had hoped to disrupt your school experience as little as possible. But if it is any comfort, I suspect most of your fellows will feel sympathy towards you for the cruel fate of being stuck with me forever.”

Her mouth turned up at the corners, but she shook her head. “I’m not concerned for myself, really. I have support from the people who matter to me, and everyone else will say what they want. But I _am_ worried that they will think a lot of things about you that are both unkind and untrue, and you don’t deserve that sort of treatment.”

Grabiner snorted, but underneath his veneer of self-loathing, he was truly moved. It was just like her to take no thought for her own well-being and waste her worries on him instead. She’d done the same in the Otherworld. Never mind that she had been the one in actual danger; the entire harrowing journey she’d been much more concerned about his mental state. He was unused to having someone _care_ about him, but he managed to overcome his natural inclination to recoil from such a gesture, and he took her hand. “I assure you that I am used to the student body believing me to be a monster. Having one more charge against me will not affects my daily life in a meaningful way. As long as you continue to think of me fondly, I will be content.”

“I will always think of you with extreme fondness,” she replied, squeezing his fingers. “But I do wish you’d let more people see the parts of you that I see.”

“I have no intention of going around kissing or marrying anyone else, no matter what you say to me,” he said with a sardonic arch of his eyebrow. Her face turned an impressive shade of crimson, as he intended. “Everything is going to be fine, so eat your breakfast.”

*************************

And everything _was_ fine, at least at first. Monday was the day she usually went to White magic, and so that’s what she did. Neither Ellen nor Virginia were particularly interested in the subject, so she went alone, but, perhaps because Potsdam had already warned them, the other students didn’t pay her any more notice than usual. The Headmistress elected to spend the day discussing the transmigration of the soul as it related to reincarnation, and Sionnan wondered if it was for her benefit. It certainly was interesting, and all the more so because she now had a personal stake.

“It seems to be true that sentient beings with magical potential have the highest likelihood of being reincarnated, but no one knows why that might be the case. Perhaps it is only that wizards and witches especially tend to remember their past lives with more ease than others. In fact, there are records of a few individuals who managed to purposely record their incarnations. The current record is 27 confirmed lives, so that’s something to strive for, if you’ve a mind,” Potsdam said with her usual cheerful grin.

“But how do you prove something like that? Especially with historical information more available than ever, it seems like it would be pretty easy to fake,” said one of the students, another freshman from Snake Hall.

“Excellent question. There are spells that can test that sort of thing, but they are so powerful and complex that they would only be used in dire circumstances. It’s hard to think of an example where the identity of one’s past life would matter that much. Usually it involves an object enchanted by the witch or wizard in question to return to them, life after life. Those kind of spells are not as difficult, and the spellwork is usually simple to verify. Now, how does reincarnation work in practice? We have several conflicting accounts…”

After class, Sionnan walked to the library, intending to return her book about mental shielding, but she could hear the whispers following her. At first, she couldn't hear what they said, but when she changed directions to go straight back to her dorm, their words only got louder. “Married to Grabiner,” they said.

“No wonder she does so well on exams.” It was the sort of thing she had expected, and she knew it wasn't true, so it only stung a little.

“I always knew he was a creep.” This was also what she had expected, and though it made her angry on his behalf, she knew there was no point in responding. 

Still, she felt shaken by the words, and the looks of pity and disgust as she passed. Then, just as she was within sight of her door, a senior named Angela stepped into view. They had never really interacted before, though she had a vague idea that she had some sort of history with Damien. The older girl looked her in the eye and laughed. “I don't understand what Professor Grabiner would see in her anyway. She looks like she wouldn’t know the first thing to with a man, and she's not even that pretty.” 

The group of girls around her laughed like it was the most hilarious thing they had ever heard. Sionnan knew she shouldn't let it bother her, but it was a knife straight to the heart of her insecurities. She froze, tears brimming in her eyes, but like an avenging angel, Virginia Danson came to the rescue. “What the crap? Haven't you jerks got anything better to do than block up the hallway?” The girls dispersed like a flock of birds sensing a predator, and Virginia grabbed her by the arm and practically dragged her into their room. 

************************

The day had been about as stressful as he had anticipated. His morning Red magic class was rowdy, and all of the students leered at him when he entered the room. However, he had the advantage. They had spent all term being terrified of him, and no amount of rumors about his romantic affairs was going to change that in a few hours. He turned and slammed his book on the desk. Everyone jumped, and someone in the back fell out of their chair. “Now that I have your undivided attention, I will tell you this once. Anyone talking about _my personal life_ during class will receive detention,” he said, wearing his most unpleasant scowl. The class nodded, wide eyed. “Now open your books to page 134. We will be discussing the Mana Burn spell.”

The rest of the day proceeded similarly. No one was brave enough to speak to him about such a personal matter outside of class, and once threatened with detention, most students pretended to be not at all interested. But just as his last class ended, he felt something, an emotion that was not his own. It gave him a bad feeling. 

He shoved through the throngs of students leaving classes and headed in the direction of the Horse dorms. As he did so, the foreign emotions grew stronger, a kind of despair and self-loathing that he was unfortunately familiar with. Things must have become much worse than he anticipated if she was distressed enough to forget to shield herself. Anger rose in his chest, a comfortable, familiar rage, drowning out the other, newer and more confusing emotions of love and concern. He jogged up the stairs and slammed the door to the freshman wing open so hard the windows rattled. A group of guilty-looking students scrambled backwards from where they had crowded near the doorway of Sionnan’s room.

“If there is something you wish to say to _my wife_ I suggest you say it to me because if anyone bothers her again, I will personally oversee their detentions for the rest of the term,” he growled. “You have ten seconds to remove yourselves from this corridor before _I remove you_.” They scattered like dead leaves before a gale. He took a moment to compose himself, and then he knocked on the door.

“I told you fuckers to buzz off! I’m not opening this damn door.” came the all-too familiar foul mouth of Virginia Danson. He would have been angry, only he appreciated her efforts, and in his current mood was even slightly amused.

“There is no need for vulgar language, Miss Danson. I have dismissed the… other students, and now I would like to speak to my wife.” The door opened a few inches, and Virginia peered at him suspiciously.

“I don’t think she’s up to seeing anyone,” she said, crossing her arms obstinately. He pursed his lips, gearing himself up to deliver a spectacular scolding, but Ellen Middleton rescued them both from an argument by pulling Virginia out of the doorway.

“Good lord, Virginia, don’t be stupid,” he heard her say behind the door, and then her face appeared. “I’m sorry Professor. Of course you can come in.” As soon as the door was open, he strode to the bed where he could see Sionnan’s small form, curled in on itself and shaking. He knelt down beside her, beyond caring who was watching. 

Virginia didn’t know what she expected when Grabiner came to their room. She hadn’t expected him to come at all. How had he even known? But here he was, and rather than handing out ten thousand detentions, or scolding Sionnan for disturbing his… whatever it was he did in his spare time, he kneeled down on the ground and started stroking her hair. Virginia turned her face away, feeling embarrassed without really knowing why, but she could still hear Grabiner’s voice, a low, soothing murmur. Ellen ushered her out into the hall, which she did not resist, and closed the door.

“Let’s give them a few minutes of privacy,” she said, and Virginia could not offer a protest. Despite what Ellen and Sionnan has told her, she had not really believed that Grabiner, a man she had loathed almost the moment she entered the Academy, had any redeeming qualities, besides his obvious magical skill. Now, she wondered if maybe she hadn’t been entirely fair.

“That was... different,” she said into the air, not really expecting a response, but Ellen snorted.

“I did tell you.”

*********************

It said something about how far she’d drawn into herself that she didn’t even register Grabiner’s presence until she felt someone touching her hair. She knew it wasn’t Ellen or Virginia; the hand was too large and too tentative. Virginia was rough and exuberant as a puppy when offering comfort, and Ellen, though much less likely to be moved to such a gesture, had a sort of clinical bluntness even to her affection. Sionnan knew without turning her head, but she still found herself surprised when she saw him there. “Hieronymus?”

“I’m here,” he said, his hand not leaving her head. “Would you like to tell me what happened?” His face was close, much closer than it had ever been for any extended period of time previously. She could see a faint splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He was here. A pulse of relief washed over her, and her muscles unclenched. She wiped her face with back of her hand and sniffed.

“It was just some girls saying exactly the sort of things I expected them to say. I thought that I was prepared for it, but…” she shook her head, feeling both guilty and foolish. “I’m sorry. There was no need for you to come all the way here. I’m fine now.”

He frowned at her. “You certainly don’t appear to be fine. Wasn’t it you who pestered me about talking to you about my problems? I am perfectly capable of deciding for myself what is worth my time, and nothing is more important to me than you, Sionnan.” He said it fiercely, as if he was scolding her, but she didn’t need to see inside his mind to know that he meant it with all his heart. She couldn’t make herself say the cruel words she had heard, so she opened her mind to him, giving him the memory that had been troubling her for the last hour. Even though the sharing did not weaken the memory in any measurable way, it felt less heavy against her heart.

After a moment, his eyes met hers, and he pulled her by the arms until she was sitting in his lap. She could hardly breathe. The warmth of his body seeped into her skin, and she could smell his scent, ink, cedar, and smoke. “Do you honestly think I don’t find you beautiful?” he asked, his voice rough. There were so many things on the tip of her tongue. About how she knew she was immature and awkward, and how no one had ever called her beautiful in her life, but when she saw herself reflected in his eyes, which had gone nearly black, she couldn’t say a word. She felt like his gaze would draw her in and envelop her completely. His fingers touched her cheek like she was something precious and fragile, and then he kissed her. 

He took his time about it, moving his mouth against hers, tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue until somehow her hands has gone around his neck and tangled in his hair, and his hat was on the ground, and they were both panting for breath. She could feel him shaking, and it was difficult to know whether it was fear or shock or something else entirely. Her own heart was galloping like a herd of wild horses. She put her hand on his cheek, feeling the rasp of his stubble against her palm, and he closed his eyes, seeming to master himself. He let out a slow breath and picked up his hat.

“I think I would like to go out for dinner,” he said finally, in an almost normal voice. “If you would care to accompany me?”

“I would,” she agreed, letting him help her to her feet. “Only, I think we ought to invite Ellen and Virginia too. They really did their best to help me, and I think Virginia might have threatened to punch a few people in the face on my behalf.” She doubted very much that her husband wanted to spend his evening with three teenaged girls, no matter how kindly disposed he felt toward one of them, but she didn't want to leave her friends after they had done so much for her. Astonishingly, he gave her a brief, indulgent smile.

“If they can stand spending an evening in my company, then I suppose they are welcome to come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos :) The next chapter is going to be lightly smutty, so look forward to that. Also still working on that art, but I had to take a break. I have a ganglion cyst in my wrist that takes offense at long periods of drawing .


	9. Chasing the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring arrives at Iris Acadeny, and with it, a confrontation involving Minnie and her controlling boyfriend. Soon afterward, the Thunder Call gives everyone a chance to let loose, but things come to a head when the tension of what Sionnan and Hieronymus have been denying themselves is finally brought into the open.
> 
> *This is a NSFW chapter, but not enough, I feel, to change the rating yet. However, do note that I will be changing the rating to E in 3-4 chapters.

March came to an end and April began. After a week of gossip and speculation, the students of Iris Academy got bored of the story of Sionnan’s marriage to Professor Grabiner, especially since, according to all witnesses, it was a terribly normal and boring affair. They ate breakfast together every morning, and were frequently seen speaking and walking outside of class, but as far as anyone knew, talking was all that they did. Ellen and Virginia knew that wasn't entirely true, but neither of them would say anything. After going out to the pub with Sionnan and Grabiner, even Virginia was forced to admit that he wasn't a _terrible_ person, and agreed that whether or not he was kissing his wife was nobody's business but his own.

On April first, after managing to dodge any and all pranks, Sionnan headed for the accounting room where she was supposed to be meeting with Minnie Cochran to discuss the Thunder Call, an event rumored to be happening later in the month, but details had so far not been forthcoming. 

However, when she entered the room, she found her husband there instead. More surprising than that, he was humming to himself as he read his book. “I had no idea you were so musical, Hieronymus,” she said, grinning at him.

He looked up at her as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I do… like music, yes.”

“Really? What kind of music do you like?” she asked, leaning forward on her elbows.

“Chamber music,” he said dryly. “There's not much else available when you have no access to electricity.”

“That is the one thing I miss about the mundane world,” she said, sighing quietly.

“What, electricity?” he asked, an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. “No, music. I mean, I know the magical world still has music, but I used to have an iPod, and it had all my favorite songs on it. I listened to it while I studied, or if I had trouble falling asleep.”

“Do you often have trouble falling asleep?” 

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “Don't you ever just lie awake at night because your mind won't be quiet about everything you did wrong that day?”

He didn't answer, but he looked slightly uncomfortable. “And what kind of music do _you_ enjoy?”

“Oh, a lot of different things. I even like some classical music. Stravinsky, especially. But mostly, I like the popular stuff from the radio, especially if it's a smarmy love song. You ought to be glad we don't have electricity here. I’m sure you'd find my musical tastes obnoxious.”

“Undoubtedly,” he said, his eyebrows twitching upward. “However, we are supposed to be talking about the Thunder Call.”  
“Wasn't Minnie going to be here?”

“I received a hastily scribbled note under my door this morning informing me that she would not be in attendance. So you will have to endure my presence all on your own.”

Of course, Sionnan not only didn't mind getting the chance to speak with her husband alone, she was delighted to do so, even if he had been a little more reticent to touch her since kissing her in her room the previous week. Considering it had been the first time he had done so when not required by magical ritual, she supposed it had been a little more passionate than he intended. She thought it had been perfect, but she knew better than to push him. They had plenty of time, after all.

Having been appraised of her duties regarding the Thunder Call, she parted ways with Hieronymus and went back to her dorm before remembering about Minnie. Though quite a lot had happened in the interim, she was reminded of the events at the Maple Ceremony, as well as the other girl’s absence on Valentine's Day. It added up to a pattern, but she wasn't entirely sure of what. 

*********************************

It was nearly a week later before she was actually able to speak to Minnie. When the freshman class president answered the door, she was pale with dark circles under her eyes. “Oh, Sionnan. I'm sorry I didn't come to the meeting the other day. I haven't been feeling well.” 

“I can see that. If you've been sick for this long, maybe you ought to check with the Headmistress.” 

“I’m not sick…” Minnie said hesitantly. Her eyes were darting around as if she was nervous about something. Sionnan frowned suspiciously and grabbed her friend by the arm. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to the cafeteria. You obviously need some fresh air and food.” Minnie allowed herself to be dragged along. She was the sort of person who didn't like to contradict others, and that, Sionnan suspected, was part of her problem. If she could just talk to Minnie alone, she thought she might be able to get to the bottom of the situation.

Chance was against them, however, as they only made it halfway across the courtyard before a voice called out. “Minnie? You told me you were sick.”

It was Kyo. Minnie’s eyes widened and she tried to back away, but Sionnan tightened her grip on the other girl’s arm. “She _is_ ill, which anyone can tell by looking at her. I’m taking her to the cafeteria to get her something to eat.”

“I'll take her to the cafeteria,” Kyo said, reaching for Minnie's other hand. She shrank back, and his eyes narrowed. “I’m her _boyfriend_.”

“Can't you see she wants you to leave her alone?” said another voice, sharply echoing against the stone. Jacob Blaising stood framed in the archway, his hands clenched into fists. 

“You! I told you to stay away from her!” Kyo shouted, advancing on the taller boy with an aura of menace. This was not at all going according to plan. Sionnan began to panic as Jacob raised his fists.

“I’ll stay away from Minnie if she wants me to. You don’t control her, and you definitely don’t control me.” Though Sionnan certainly wished to applaud Jacob’s sentiments, she didn’t want the boys to fight. Especially not when she and Minnie were right in the middle of it. Inspiration came like a bolt of lightning. She mentally prodded her husband.

 _There is a situation in the courtyard that I could use your assistance with,_ She could feel his faint irritation, but then, she supposed he was in the middle of teaching. _I’m sorry to disturb you, Hieronymus, but there is about to be a fistfight between Kyo and Jacob, and furthermore, I think Minnie is in some sort of trouble, and I can’t really imagine anyone else who could intervene._

 _I’ll be right there,_ he said, and Sionnan felt an enormous flood of relief. Jacob and Kyo were still yelling, and Minnie was clinging to her arm with tears in her eyes, but she felt confident now that the situation would be resolved. Of course, just as she thought this, Jacob threw himself at Kyo and the fists started to fly as the two boys scrabbled in the dirt. 

“Shouldn’t we stop them, Sionnan?” Minnie whispered. Sionnan shook her head. She wanted to tell her friend that everything would be all right, but this was hardly the time to explain the nature of her bond with her husband. She did hope he would hurry, because both Jacob and Kyo had bloody noses. 

“You will cease this nonsense at once!” Grabiner shouted, his voice carrying easily, even from halfway across the courtyard. Both boys looked up as if they’d received an electric shock, but then Kyo took the opportunity to get in one last kick. Jacob yelled, his fist reaching back, and then they were both pulled to their feet by the collars of their robes. Grabiner scowled down at them, his expression thunderous. “This is disgraceful behavior from both of you. You will both be serving detention on Saturday at the very least. Go clean yourselves up and be at my classroom in one hour. If there is any more fighting, or I have to come find you, the results will be extremely unpleasant.” They both nodded, though Kyo’s eyes blazed with defiance, which was brave of him, if stupid. Grabiner released them but continued to glare until they both stomped out of the courtyard in opposite directions.

The Professor sighed and walked over to the two girls. “Are you both all right?” he asked, his eyes flicking over them.

“Fine. I was just taking Minnie to the cafeteria to get something to eat,” Sionnan said. “We ran into Kyo, who seemed to take offense at my presence, and then Jacob showed up, and things went downhill from there.”

“I see. Well, if you would do me the favor of escorting Miss Cochran to the Headmistress’s office, I will go and finish teaching my class. Meet me outside the classroom when you’re done. I’d like to speak with you before I talk to Mr. Blaising and Mr. Katsura.”

“Of course,” she replied, offering him a smile. He didn’t quite smile in return, perhaps conscious that there was another student present, but his face softened.

“Later, then,” he said, turning and striding back in the direction of the classroom. Some of Minnie’s tension visibly eased, but she didn’t say anything until they were halfway to Potsdam’s office.

“You and Professor Grabiner seem to be getting along much better,” she said, a little timidly. Sionnan laughed, realizing that the last time she saw them together must have been the wedding. Whatever had been going between her and Kyo had kept her out of sight for the past few eventful weeks.

“We are, very much so. Neither of us were at our best that night, I suppose.,” she said. “I never planned on getting married at sixteen, accidentally or not, but I’m glad that I did.”

“That's amazing. I don’t think I understand what love is,” Minnie said, sighing heavily. “I thought that all those things Kyo did, watching me all the time, and wanting me to talk only to him, meant that he really loved me. But it didn’t make me happy. I heard Potsdam say that Professor Grabiner loves you, and he acts nothing like Kyo.”

Sionnan felt it was somewhat ironic that she had become the local source for romantic advice, as there was nothing usual about her marriage, but she supposed things were going better than could be expected. “I think when you really love someone, what they want is just as important as what you want. You have to be partners and equals. I know that sounds silly for me to say, since the Professor is an experienced and powerful wizard, and I’m not. But he’s never forced me to do anything, and he always listens to my opinion, even if he doesn’t agree. You might also be surprised to know that he always apologizes when he’s been proven wrong.” In Sionnan’s experience, it was a rare trait for a man to have, especially one who was technically supposed to be in charge of you.

Minnie digested this information with a thoughtful expression the whole rest of the way to Potsdam’s office. But when the Headmistress opened the door with a smile, Minnie turned. “Thank you so much, Sionnan. If you hadn’t come, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I was too afraid. And thank Professor Grabiner too. I don’t know how he knew to come, but I’m glad that he did.” 

Sionnan nodded and Petunia grinned at her. “Good job, dear. Your husband sent me a message appraising me of the situation. I’d give you some merits, but there hardly seems to be a point. You don’t make nearly enough trouble. I’ll take care of Minnie, and you run along to see Hieronymus.”

A few minutes later, Sionnan leaned against the wall outside his classroom, hoping she appeared nonchalant. A rush of students burst through the door a few minutes later, and she poked her head around the corner. Grabiner was alone, his back to her as he erased the blackboard. She let the door fall shut and walked quietly toward the desk, hoping to surprise him, but when she was just about to reach out, he stilled.

“Trying to sneak up on me, you little vixen?” he said, turning around quickly and catching her upraised arm. She laughed, a little embarrassed to be caught, but charmed by the playful endearment.

“I thought it would only be fair, since you’re always startling me. You’re a surprisingly sneaky person, Hieronymus.” 

“A skill I was required to develop in order to catch students at their clandestine misdeeds, and not because of any of my own youthful misadventures, I assure you.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” she replied. “But what did you want to talk about? I assume the others will be here soon.” He nodded. It turned out that he merely wanted her own account of the events that transpired between Kyo and Jacob, as well as the situation with Minnie.

“That was a brave and kind thing you did, reaching out to Miss Cochran and protecting her like that. It appears that Mr. Katsura has a somewhat unstable personality, so I’m glad you called me, instead of trying to handle everything yourself.”

She grinned. “Well, of course. I trusted that you would take care of things properly. Does this mean I deserve some sort of reward?” she asked, leaning into him. She wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed her to say it, except that she felt like teasing him.

He raised an eyebrow, but did not seem entirely displeased. “A reward? You’re feeling bold this evening, Mrs. Grabiner,” he said, drawing her into his arms. Once again, she felt like she was drowning in the simple sensation of being close to him, the solid warmth of his body, and his familiar scent that was somehow soothing and intoxicating all at once.

“I suppose I’m rather proud of my accomplishments,” she said with a low chuckle, reaching up to touch his face. He leaned down, his expression intense. Of course, there was a knock at the door. She pulled away with an annoyed frown. “I guess I ought to be going then.” For once, he looked as irritated by the intrusion as she felt, which she thought, was a good sign. She left the classroom as the two boys entered, ignoring their speculative glances.

The next day, Grabiner told her that Kyo had been given detention for the rest of the year and had been warned to stay away from both Jacob and Minnie or risk expulsion. Jacob had only been given one detention, for fighting. On Saturday, Sionnan saw Minnie in the library. She already looked healthier and happier, and that, Sionnan thought, was reward enough.

That night, just as she was about to fall asleep, a flash of lightning startled her back to awareness. It was time.

************************************************

Grabiner, as a rule, did not enjoy the Thunder Call. It never failed to be in the middle of the night, as if the gods themselves demanded his sleep as a sacrifice, and the drumming gave him a terrible headache. He only attended because he didn’t trust Potsdam to keep the situation under control, especially since she encouraged the older students to practice fire-spinning. It was insane enough to allow teenagers to participate in such a dangerous exercise, but to allow it indoors was practically criminal, in his opinion. 

This year, however, there was something other than life-threatening youthful shenanigans to draw his eyes. After briefly visiting him where he was leaning against the wall, Sionnan had gone to join the group of students dancing around the drummers. He found himself enraptured. Whether she was a good dancer or not, he had no idea, but she moved her body with a sort of effortless grace. It made him restless and uncomfortable in a way that he was not yet too far gone to recognize. It was something he had been trying to ignore for months and continued to do so more out of habit than need. They were married, in both a legal and a supernatural sense, bound to each other until the end of time, and she loved him. Not only had she told him so, but he felt it, in his bones. And when he had kissed her two weeks ago, what he had intended as a gesture of love and reassurance had become something else entirely, and it had made her opinion on the matter clear.

So why did he hesitate, even now? Was it because he still felt it would be wrong? No; she had proven, both to him, and he thought, to everyone else, that she was a grown woman who knew her own mind. The truth was that he was afraid. Whatever she might imagine about his skill and experience, it had been been over a decade, and he was almost as worried about embarrassing himself as he was about hurting or frightening her. 

Despite all these reservations, he felt the time for waiting was coming to an end. He knew she'd been confused by his attempts to remain distant, and he did not want to drive her away with his insecurities. The term would be over in a little more than two weeks. It seemed like the appropriate time to take such an important step. If he could restrain himself that long. He pressed his palms into his eyeballs. He needed to find a distraction.

“Perhaps you should join the dance this year, Hieronymus.” Petunia’s voice jolted him from his thoughts so abruptly that he jerked upward and hit his head on the wall. 

“Bloody hell, woman, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he snapped, scowling at her and rubbing his skull. “There is absolutely no way I will be dancing anywhere, Petunia.”

“Is that so?” she asked, elbowing him in the side. It hurt a surprising amount. “You’re not even going to bring your wife to the May Day Ball?” He crossed his arms over his chest and didn't answer, but he turned over the thought in his mind. Grabiner had not attended the ball once since his arrival at Iris Academy. And why would he? It was a time of joy and romance, an environment not suited to an unpleasant person such as himself. Except, things were a little different, now.

The tenor of the music changed, becoming fast and frantic. The dancers twirled wildly, and someone, William Danson, he thought, started juggling small globes of fire in the air. Grabiner watched, waiting for the inevitable catastrophe. One of the dancers tripped, bumping into William, and the fire splashed down over the dancers, many of whom shrieked in terror.

Grabiner and Potsdam ran over to assist, but there were no injuries, just a singed cloak or two. He told William and any other aspiring fire spinners to keep well away from the dancers, and went to reclaim his position on the wall. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar, small, fair-haired person slipping out of the gym.

“Go after her, Hieronymus. Don't be a fool,” Petunia said, nudging him again with her elbow. Why was the woman so pointy? He hesitated, glancing at the small group of students beginning once again to throw flames into the air. “I can handle things here, never fear.” 

He had some serious doubts about that, and yet, out he went. In the faint glow of the witchlight in the archway, he could just see his wife, leaning on the railing and watching the rain. He walked up behind her, and she craned her head to look back at him. Even in the dark, he could see her smile by the way the light curved along her cheek. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I just needed some air. It was crowded and hot in there. The rain is nice.” She shivered, and without thinking, he pulled his cloak around both of them, his arms wrapping around her shoulders, and his chin resting on the top of her head. She reached up to entwine her fingers with his, and they stood in silence. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed against him, and the sweet scent of her shampoo made his blood sing in his veins. The sound of the rain muted all other noises, creating the illusion that they were the only two people in the world. After several minutes passed, the door to the gym abruptly opened, flooding the corridor with light, but he didn't move. For once, he didn’t feel like caring if someone saw him embracing his wife. The sound of the drums thrummed in the air for a moment, and then the door slammed shut. The sudden quiet was almost surreal.

“Do you want to go back in?” he asked in a low voice. This event might be akin to his worst nightmare, but he wouldn’t have her miss any more of her school experience if he could help it.

“Do we have to?” she asked pleadingly, squeezing his hands. “This is much nicer. Although, I suppose I am a bit sad I won’t get to see any actual fire-spinning. I’m not certain what William did counts.” 

Grabiner chuckled, and seized by a sudden impulse, he pulled her down the corridor, keeping his cloak wrapped around her shoulder. “Come on. I’ll show you some fire-spinning.”

“In the rain?” Her voice sounded both incredulous and delighted.

“It’s letting up now,” he said, and it was true. The rain was now more of a desultory drizzle than a deluge, barely wetting her hair as they walked out to their normal meeting place behind the orchard. Once they were in the middle of the field, he handed her his cloak. “Just sit here, and shield yourself.”

***********************

Sionnan had thought, though she wasn’t certain, that she had sensed a shift in her husband, when they had stood together in the rain. He had seemed more sure of himself, as if he’d decided something. When he led her out into the dark wet field to show her fire-spinning, she knew his walls were starting to come down. She was more excited about that than she was by what she was about to see, and that had her practically shivering with anticipation.

He gave her his cloak and she wrapped herself gratefully within and set a shield as he moved a few paces away. At first, she could hardly see him. With the clouds obscuring the moon and stars, it was pitch-black this far from the school buildings. But then, there was a small point of orange light, coming, she saw, from the tip of a wand. It moved through the air, leaving a trail of golden lines behind it, like drawing with a sparkler, but the image stayed. And it grew and grew until she could see Hieronymus in the middle of it. Then the lines started to move, undulating through the air with sinuous grace, and she realized that it was a giant golden dragon, drawn with flames in the sky. She could hear the occasionally rain droplet fizzling as it fell onto the magical construct. It soared through the air, flapping its shimmering wings, even breathing fire once, and Sionnan watched, enraptured, until it came to a stop high above them, lighting the whole field with wan golden light. 

Hieronymus began to walk back towards her, and she beamed at him, though she knew he probably couldn’t see it. “That was amazing! How long will it stay there?”

“Probably an hour or so,” he said, sitting down next to her. She held out the cloak to him and he shrugged it around his shoulders before pulling her into his arms. His hands were cold when they took hers again, but she leaned back against his chest, stuck somewhere between delirious excitement and supreme contentment at once again being embraced by the man she loved. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” said his voice in her ear. “I did not particularly want to venture back into all that noise, but I didn’t want you to feel as thought you’d missed out.”

“I don’t mind missing out on a few things if I get to be with you, Hieronymus,” she said, tipping her face up to look at him. His eyes gleamed with the glow from the spell above.

“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to kiss you,” he said in a low voice. She turned her body to him more fully, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind it. If you kissed me,” she said, her insides fluttering. “I’d be thrilled if you kissed me more often.” He cupped her face in his hands and their lips met, gently and carefully, at first. But she had seen how he responded to boldness, so with her heart in her throat, she opened her mouth and flicked her tongue against his lips. She heard him draw in a sharp breath, but then, his mouth moved against hers. Their tongues brushed. It felt like fireworks exploding in her mind. They fell backward, somehow, and he flung his hat into the darkness before kissing her again, his hands sliding into her hair. Meanwhile, her hands slipped under his collar, and she felt the smooth skin of his shoulders under her fingers. It only made her want to touch him more. His teeth scraped her lower lip; she felt like she was going to melt into a puddle. His brown robe had fallen open long ago and now, feeling slightly crazed, she moved her hands down to the first button on his shirt.

He tensed, his body preternaturally still. “We should stop this,” he said, somewhat breathlessly. She pulled away, feeling the sting of rejection. Of course, he wouldn’t want that with her.

“I’m sorry… I…” she said, barely able to get a word out over her confusion and hurt. But as she tried to move away, he grabbed her hand, and pulled her back down until her head was on his chest. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

“I didn’t mean… not ever. I meant not here. We’re lying in a muddy field in the middle of the night, for gods’ sakes,” he said, sounding slightly exasperated. But then his voice lowered, rumbling in his chest. “When I make love to you, Sionnan, I plan on taking my time about it. And it will be somewhere much more comfortable.”

Her face grew hot all the way to her ears, and she felt giddy. Mirth bubbled up from within her, undeniable, and she laughed. “You don’t think there’s something romantic about being outside?”

“There is nothing romantic about the water seeping under my collar,” he said, pushing himself up to sitting. But he did not release her from his arms. “Do not doubt that I want to be with you,” he said, kissing her hair. ‘But I thought we might wait until the term is over. I would like to do things properly. Perhaps we might even go away for a while.” His words were halting but sincere. 

“All right, Hieronymus,” she said, looking up at him with her eyes full of love and her chest buzzing warmly. “But I hope I don’t have to wait another two weeks to kiss you again.” It was difficult to tell, with only the dim light from the glowing dragon shining on his face, but she thought he might be smiling.

“No. I don’t imagine that I would enjoy that either.”

***************************

The next week passed in a blur for Sionnan. As finals approached, classes took on a somewhat frenetic pace, and she studied harder than ever, but sometimes she felt she was taking nothing in because her head was full of Hieronymus Grabiner. He did not make her wait two weeks for another kiss; he kissed her good night in front of her dorm room less than an hour later. There had been several other kisses in the days since, stolen in the corridors between classes, in the field behind the orchard, in the accounting room, even once in the cafeteria during breakfast, to the general astonishment of the student body. That had particularly delighted Sionnan because she knew what it meant. He was done hiding the fact that he loved her. 

But he'd still been cautious, always making sure things didn't go too far. They both had. She wanted to respect his wishes, and furthermore, she was charmed by the knowledge that, despite appearances, he was somewhat of a romantic. 

Still, she could think of little else. It was distracting. If her husband felt anything like she did, it was a wonder he could manage to teach class. She decided to take a shower with the intent of doing something to clear her mind.

***************************

He was sitting at his desk, attempting to grade essays about the mechanical differences between **Teleport Self** and **Teleport Other** , but in truth, he could hardy keep his thoughts in order. Not just because the essays were horrible. Grabiner often thought that if he hadn’t been born a wizard, he'd have been an English teacher because the bad grammar displayed by Iris Academy’s students gave him physical pain.

But his mind kept wandering in the direction of his wife. In the feeling of her mouth against his and her scent in his nose and the way her small, cool, fingers felt in his hands. Or around his neck. Or in his hair. And that made him think about where else he might like to have her put her hands. And where he might touch her in return. It was ridiculous and maddening how much this occupied his mind. The end of term couldn't come fast enough.

Not that he seriously believed that indulging in these pleasures would diminish his interest in them, but he did hope that having an entire summer to enjoy them, as he had already informed Petunia that he would not be teaching summer school this year, would at least make the thoughts of Sionnan slightly less all-consuming. He shook his head and bent back to his desk.

He felt a thrill of sensation shiver up his spine, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. His eyes widened. It was coming from _her_ , little shivers of pleasure that were unmistakeable. He knew she wasn't doing it on purpose. It was perfectly normal, gods knew he'd needed to, she just didn't have the discipline to maintain her shields when her mind was otherwise occupied. He shuddered, trying to still his thoughts, to strengthen his own defenses brick by brick, because it wasn't right for him to see something so private, even by accident. 

But then he saw himself reflected in her mind, saw _them together_ , and it shattered his resolve as thoroughly as if he'd been hit with a sledgehammer. A moan escaped him, and he clapped his hand over his mouth as the erection stirring against his thigh went quickly from annoying to extremely uncomfortable. He couldn't take it anymore.

***********************************

Sionnan let the water run over the back of her neck as she remembered how it felt to kiss him, the warmth of his mouth, his tongue twining with hers, the teasing scrape of his teeth. She wanted to feel his mouth other places, and as her mind travelled down these enticing paths, her hands slipped down her body, caressing her own breasts, swirling over her nipples and sliding down between her legs. She might not be experienced in the ways of love, but she was a curious person and she had read plenty on the subject. 

Her imagination was not idle in providing the details of what it might look like, and feel like, to be with her husband, the man she loved above all others, more than she had ever conceived of loving anyone. When she touched herself, she imagined his long fingers touching her instead, or perhaps his lips and his tongue. Her knees wobbled as the pleasure built and she braced her back against the cold tile. She couldn't help but imagine that it was his body that pressed her backward, his wiry strength holding her up as they moved together.

She felt he moment when his mind flowed into hers, and she gasped, realizing what must have happened, her face flooding with blood at the shame of it, but no. His mind did not recoil, but held her lovingly, desperately. 

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You didn't invite me, but I am here, and I love you, so please just be with me now, in this moment,_ he begged, and she could that feel his love and his need matched her own.

 _I love you, Hieronymus,_ she whispered into his mind, and she felt a throb of relief. She touched herself again, tentatively, but now the pulse of desire that coursed through her body was matched by his own, doubling the pleasure. Her finger circled the button between her legs, sparking fire along every nerve, and her blood burned with the knowledge that he was touching himself at the same time, and thinking of her. And he showed her all of things he dreamed of doing, in his bed, against the wall, and even in the grass under the summer sunshine, until, as her ecstasy converged to a point of white hot incandescence, she could almost feel him, his hands and his body, touching her, surrounding her, and _within_ her. 

The orgasm shattered through her like a star crashing to earth; she barely managed to cover her mouth so that the whole school wouldn't know what she'd been doing, but then again she hardly cared as she rode over the crest of bliss only to be almost overwhelmed by the sensation of his release. She slid down to the floor as they shivered together, and the still hot water rushed over her head. She wanted to say something to him, to offer reassurance, but she could not find the words.

 _I do not deserve you,_ he said finally, and that was enough to prod her brain back into action.

 _Whether deserved or not, you have me. I love you. It was my fault anyway,_ she said, though she could feel only joy and relief.

 _Do not be sorry._ The fierceness of his love was evident in the strength of his denial. _I wanted this. You don't know how much I wanted it._

 _I think I have some idea,_ she retorted playfully. His amusement seemed to dissipate the remaining tension between them.

 _Finish your shower. I will see you at breakfast, my love._ He disengaged from her mind with a sort of tender reluctance, and she sighed contentedly as she stood up on still-wobbling legs. As far as Sionnan Grabiner was concerned, life was perfect.

***********************

He blinked his eyes as he came back to himself, cleaning himself off with his own discarded shirt in a haze of retreating bliss. He felt he should be ashamed, but he was not. She had enjoyed it as much as he had, and now, his mind was clearer than it had been in days. They would get through exams, and then they would leave Iris Academy as soon as they could. But where would they go? It required some thought, but he felt at last able to find a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's reading and leaving comments and kudos! If you want to see the completed art of Grabiner in the Otherworld, you can look in the comments of chapter 8. Or eventually I'll figure out how to embed it into the appropriate chapter.
> 
> This is a long chapter but I had a lot to fit in so I could get to the promised steamy bits lol, so I hope you enjoy.


	10. Finality and Causality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final exam. Tension between the roommates that needs resolution, and an unexpected near-death encounter.
> 
> (Brief mention of suicidal ideation and some blood.)

Breakfast the next morning wasn’t nearly as awkward as Sionnan expected. She sat down across from her husband with her food as she always did, and his eyes moved over her searchingly. She smiled, her cheeks a little pink from remembering what they had shared, and the tension in his posture eased. He took her hand and squeezed it. 

“I told you I wasn't upset,” she said quietly, “Did you think I would change my mind?”

“No. I don't know… I never claimed my worries were entirely _rational_ ,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “I am glad to know that you continue to not be upset. It was unexpected but…” he paused, and she could see the flush on his cheeks. “I enjoyed it,” he muttered.

Her lips curled upward. “I did too. Although, I'd prefer next time to be more… in person.” Now his ears were red. She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling.

“Well, yes,” he said roughly. “After final exams.” He cleared his throat, and assumed a more serious expression. “I'm going to be busy this week with preparations, so if you need me urgently, it would be best to contact me mentally. Of course, I will still be at lessons.”

“Preparations for finals? Is it going to be terribly difficult?” she asked, swallowing back a knot of anxiety. 

“And for the summer,” he said, with an arch of his eyebrow. “I did say that I would like for us to leave the school for a while. But I am not telling you a thing, on either count. You will just have to be patient.”

“Hieronymus,” she said, frowning and squirming in her chair. “That's positively evil.”

“I have a reputation to live up to, after all.” And he refused to say anything further. She didn't know how he expected her to concentrate on studying when she was busy wondering what sort of surprise he had planned for vacation.

When she returned to her room, she found something else to distract her. She could hear the sound of her roommates arguing before she had even reached the door, let alone opened it. “You are such a child!” Ellen shouted.

“I can't believe you’re blaming me! You're the one sneaking around behind my back with my brother,” Virginia said angrily just as Sionnan entered.

“I am not _sneaking around._ I just know how _unreasonable_ you are about Donald, and I didn't want to fight about it,” Ellen said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I am not unreasonable!” 

“What is going on? What about Donald?” Sionnan stepped between her roommates, and they both looked away defensively. “Come on, guys. I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on.” 

Ellen sighed. “Virginia is mad because she found out I went on a date with Donald.”

Sionnan blinked in surprise. “Really? You and Donald? I had no idea you had a thing for him. How did the date go?”

“I didn't have a thing for him, but then, we've been talking, and..”

“Sionnan!” Virginia interjected. “You're taking her side?!”

“I'm not taking anyone's side, I was just asking how the date…” Sionnan realized halfway through that she’d misunderstood the problem. “You mean you're upset that they're dating? Why?”

“Ugh!” Virginia turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Sionnan winced. “I think I may have made things worse. I'm sorry, Ellen.” 

The other girl sank down on her bed, shaking her head. “It's not your fault, Sionnan. I should've told her sooner, but I was afraid she'd react like this. And we just received notice that the final is going to be a group exam. The note says we’ll fail if we don't trust each other. I think we’re doomed.” 

“I'm sure we aren't doomed,” Sionnan said, but privately, she was cursing the bad timing. She might've have taken a moment to tell off her husband for not warning her about the unusual exam format, but she suspected this was not the sort of thing Hieronymus Grabiner would come up with. “I'll go talk to her. I'm sure we can work this out. You know sometimes Virginia just needs to work off her temper a bit.”

“I hope you're right, Sionnan. I was going to stay with her family over summer break too, and now I don't know what's going to happen.”

*******************

She found Virginia in the gym, unsurprisingly. Sionnan had never been a particularly athletic person, and after her experience with Damien, she felt less comfortable in the gym than ever. But even Hieronymus had stressed how important physical fitness was to a wizard, so she still went three times a week to run around the track. Today, her roommate was standing at the free-throw line with a basketball held against her chest. Sionnan watched as Virginia shot, missed, let out a stream of invective that would have made a sailor blush, and teleported the ball back to her hands.

She scowled when she spotted Sionnan. “What do you want? Have you come to tell me I’m being unreasonable too?”

“No. I want to hear your side of things. I’ll never understand why you’re so against Ellen and Donald dating if you don’t tell me, and I’d like it if we could get things worked out.”

“You just want to make sure you pass the stupid final,” Virginia said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sionnan pursed her lips. “That isn’t true and you know it. Although my husband would undoubtedly be disappointed if I failed the exam, it’s not going to affect whether Ellen or I move to sophomore or not.” The Headmistress had helpfully posted a list of students who needed to pass the final. None of their names were on it. That didn't mean they shouldn't try on the final, but it did make the situation less dire. “We’re friends, Virginia, and I’d like for us to remain that way.” 

“I'm sorry, you're right,” Virginia said, running a hand over her springy red hair and tossing the ball back into a nearby bucket. “Can we take a walk?”

They went out to the orchard and sat down on one of the rickety wrought iron benches. The trees were all in bloom and the chorus of birds was nearly deafening. It made Sionnan smile. She'd never been a big fan of winter. “So, what's actually bothering you, Virginia?”

“Besides the fact that I can't imagine why anyone would _want_ to date Donald, I can't believe she didn't tell me about it.” She sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “You kept the thing with Grabiner a secret from me too. I feel like you guys don't trust me.”

“I’m sure she would have told you eventually. But she was afraid of your reaction. She wouldn't have kept it from you if she didn’t care what you thought. And I know you don't want to hear this, but you are a little prejudiced about anything involving Donald.” Virginia scowled, but Sionnan soldiered onward. “The only thing I told Ellen about before I told you was that Professor Grabiner was giving me private lessons in red magic. The Headmistress told Ellen we were married, and that wasn't even until we came back from the Otherworld. You weren't here.”

“What about private lessons? How long has that been going on?”

“Since the beginning of spring term,” Sionnan replied. “That’s where I've been going every Sunday. I’m the one who broke his nose, but that was an accident.”

Virginia laughed about it for several minutes. “I can't believe you broke his nose, and he didn’t even give you demerits.”

“He said it was his own fault for not shielding himself,” Sionnan said, smiling at the memory. She had felt horribly guilty about injuring him, but it had also been her first time to see his more vulnerable side. Even now, he often seemed unsure what to do with kindness directed towards him, but back then, he had clearly been afraid to accept even the simplest act of compassion. 

“He really does love you, doesn't he?” Virginia said, sighing in a sort of melancholy and defeated way. “I mean, I sort of knew that was true when he came to our room after Spring Break, when those girls were giving you a hard time. But I didn't want to believe it. Now it seems like maybe he's had a crush on you as long as you've had a crush on him, which is sort of ridiculous to think about, and now you're married.”

“We danced together, at the Dark Dance. I never told anyone. I think we both pretended not to know,” Sionnan said, reliving a memory that, until recently, had been one of her most treasured. “But then, when he came to to my house over Winter Break, the Headmistress told me he had done that all on his own. I’m not sure I really believed her when she told me he had feelings for me. But I think you must be right.”

Virginia sighed even more heavily. “I feel like you guys are leaving me behind. I don't even _like_ anyone that way.”

“Is that what's bothering you?” Sionnan shook her head. “I don't think you ought to be taking me as a role model for teenage romance, Virginia. I am happy, I really am. But there is nothing about my relationship that is normal, and there's a lot of ways it could have gone wrong.”

Virginia shook her head. “Believe me, I’m not jealous of you for being with Professor Grabiner. But you do have somebody. And now, so does Ellen. I'm the only one of us who’s alone.”

“But you're not alone, Virginia. You have so many friends, not just me and Ellen, even. There's everyone in the Sports Club, and William. I don't think romance always has to be the pinnacle of relationships. I mean, there's plenty of things I'd much rather do with you and Ellen than with Hieronymus. He'd be absolutely no fun to go to the mall with.” She could imagine just the shape his scowl would take, and though she loved even his unpleasant faces, she had no intention of torturing him for no reason. “Friends are just as important, maybe even more so. And just because Ellen and Donald are dating now doesn't mean they're going to get married.”

“I guess not,” she agreed. “But why Donald, of all people? I don't even know what she sees in him.”

“I think you don't see your brother very well, Virginia. Either of them, really. You've put William on this pedestal, and he is undoubtedly a good person, but he is just a person. He has his own problems. Donald is always making trouble, but that's only because he thinks that's all he's good for. He is also an intelligent and compassionate person, and he and Ellen have a lot in common. They're both middle children who feel like they're invisible, though they've dealt with it in different ways. You ought to be thrilled. I think they could be good influences on each other.”

“I suppose Ellen can use use a little loosening up, and if anybody needs a good studying role model, it's Donald.” Virginia let out one last sigh. “I guess I'd better go apologize to Ellen. Maybe I’ll even talk to Donald. I'll tell him if he breaks her heart I'll kick his ass.”

“I mean, that's a start, but maybe tone down the threatening?” Sionnan said with raised eyebrows Virginia waved away her concerns and walked back in the direction of the dorm. By dinner time, everything was back to normal. There was nothing to do now but study and await the day of exams.

On the night of April 28th, Sionnan didn't think she’d be able to sleep. She’d only seen Hieronymus at breakfast that morning. He told her they would do fine, but he gave her a good luck kiss anyway. Across the room, Virginia could be heard making gagging noises. 

But once night fell, Sionnan tossed and turned in her bed. It was true that none of them needed to pass the exam, but they all wanted to, even Virginia. They had practiced as much as they possibly could. Would it be enough? 

She was contemplating getting up again, maybe reading a book to calm her thoughts, when she heard music. Quiet and low, coming from some sort of wind instrument, though she didn't know enough to guess which one. Sionnan sat up in bed, intending to ask her roommates if they heard it too, and then she realized it was coming from inside her head. _Hieronymus?_

The music paused. _I thought you might be having trouble sleeping._

 _I didn't know you played an instrument_ she said, the only thing she could think to say with the way her heart seemed to be overflowing. She never expected him to remember that conversation, that little bit of nothing in the middle of so many important moments.

 _I'll tell you all about it later. Now you should be sleeping._ He started to play again, and she wanted find the words to tell him how much it meant to her. But there were none that expressed the depth of love in her heart, and in any case, she didn't want to interrupt him again. The music was soft and wistful, rising and falling like a night breeze. It made her think about how pleasant it would be to fall asleep in his arms. This was probably the next best thing.

*************************************

The Headmistress met them outside the door to the dungeon the following afternoon. Because he'd been busy giving finals since early that morning, Sionnan hadn't even seen her husband at breakfast. She would have liked to thank him. “Good morning, dearies,” Potsdam said, smiling as always. “I do hope you're all well-rested and prepared.” 

Sionnan blushed, although she supposed it was nothing to be embarrassed about. It was only that it had been a much more touching and romantic gesture than she had ever expected to receive, and whenever she remembered it, her heart squeezed in her chest. “When you get inside the exam,” Petunia continued, “you will find yourself in a room full of obstacles and enemies. Your object is to find the crystal. When all three of you put your hands on it, if you have some mana left, you will be teleported from the dungeon, and will have passed the exam. This is a bit more dangerous than the previous exams you have taken, but, as always, Professor Grabiner will standing by to make sure no one is irreparably damaged.” Not for the first time, Sionnan was glad it was her husband and not Potsdam who proctored the exams. Petunia was a sweet person, but she seemed to have a tenuous grasp on the concept of safety. “Are you ready to go in?”

The three girls glanced at each other and nodded. “We’re ready,” Sionnan said. The world spun around them, and then they were in the dark. 

“This is some sort of magical darkness,” Ellen's voice said from somewhere to her left. “Light spells don't work.”

“ **Awareness** doesn't either,” Sionnan said after a moment. “It’s just a big blank space.”

“This place is full of monsters though. We should use **Track Scent** to take them out.” That was Virginia.

“No, listen, Virginia, we have no idea what's out there, The monsters might come back as soon as they're killed. I think we ought to avoid the monsters and concentrate on finding the crystal. We split up, and use **Farspeak** to keep in touch.”

“I'm sorry, Virginia, but I’m going to have to agree with Ellen,” Sionnan said, thinking hard. “Most of the combat magic I know not very precise. I could end up hitting one of you in the dark.” Hieronymus had taught her to control the battlefield by playing elements off each other using large scale magic, but this wasn't a good situation for that sort of skill. “You can use Truesight and Cloak to avoid things if you need to. When one of us finds the crystal we’ll **Farspeak** and Ellen and I can do the teleporting.”

“Fine, fine, I guess it's a good plan.” They separated, going in three different directions. Sionnan cast **Truesight** , narrowly avoiding a trap, and then she spied a group of hodags ahead. She cast **Distraction** and kept going.

“Argh!” Virginia’s voice echoed through the dungeon. Sionnan cast **Farspeak,** slightly panicked.

 _Are you okay?_ The dungeon was eerily silent.

 _I'm fine. I got caught in an **Entangle** and then some weird monster thing came by, but I managed to burn myself free. _ Sionnan sighed with relief, and continued forward. She met no obstacles and was considering turning around when she was assaulted by pain, a stabbing in her gut that made her double over, whimpering. It was followed by a rush of emotions, _surprise, anger, fear, more anger_ , and she straightened with a gasp, taking a deep breath to try and steady herself before casting **Farspeak** again.

_We have to hurry. Something bad is happening out there. Hieronymus is injured._

************** 

There was a tingle in his awareness as another group of students entered the dungeon for their exam. Grabiner checked his watch. 4 o'clock was the scheduled time for Sionnan and her roommates to begin their final, and sure enough, when he peered into the scrying glass, the three girls were standing in the entrance, discussing tactics. He was relieved when they decided on Ellen's plan. Not that he doubted Sionnan's ability to handle a few hodags and one small manticore, but she'd likely freeze the whole dungeon. He made a mental note to teach her spells with a more confined range in the future. 

Their plan proceeded well, however. Grabiner was not hampered by the magical darkness, so he watched Sionnan evade all the traps he had set with a sense of pride, though he was aware more than anyone that this was hardly testing her abilities to their limit. Virginia screamed and he switched his perspective to her. Unlike his wife, the youngest Danson had little experience with the detection spells of blue magic, so she walked right into his enchanted plants and then was force to burn her way out while also avoiding the sting of the manticore. Even if he didn't agree with her reckless all-offense style, he was nonetheless impressed by her abilities. Once assured she was in no danger, he turned his focus back to his wife, ascertained her safety, and then decided to check on Ellen. 

How he, or anyone, for that matter, failed to noticed the summoning of such a large Otherworld construct was nothing short of miraculous, but Grabiner did not sense anything amiss as he bent over the scrying glass in the courtyard, until he felt a searing pain in his back. He blinked in surprise at the discovery of a spike of ice protruding from under his rib cage. _How unpleasant,_ he thought, with the understated objectivity that comes from pain-induced shock. He turned to see a monster standing on the other side of the courtyard, something like a bear crossed with a glacier, a creature constructed of ice and malevolence. He faintly recalled seeing one before, long ago.

It hardly mattered; the thing did not belong here, and so, with muted fury, Grabiner tossed a **Fireball** into the monster's face, and it roared. Blood dripped down his side, warm, wet, and smelling of rust and salt. The world tilted, and suddenly he was on the ground, blades of grass green and vibrant in his vision. Some part of his brain was screaming that he needed to get up, to fight, but he felt cold inside. He was not afraid of dying, not since ten years ago when his whole world had crumbled in one moment of blood and fire. Since then, he had often wished for the end. But now, as he felt his awareness fading, he rebelled. _Not today, not today. I didn't tell her, I never said the words out loud. She deserves more than this from me..._

Just before everything went black, he thought he felt her answering. _Hold on, please hold on. We're on our way._

***************

Was it only a moment or a lifetime? His heart was beating. The pain in his side lessened as warmth flowed into him and her name was on his lips. "I'm here, Hieronymus," said the voice he most longed to hear. "Everything is going to be fine." For once, he allowed himself to believe that it was true as she stroked his hair, and her magic stitched him back together. His strength returned, and with it, his mental faculties, and he put his hand over hers. 

"That's enough for now, I'm not in any danger." He wouldn't let her burn herself out for him, and he knew she'd already given more than she should. An experienced healer could mend even a serious wound without much effort, but a student like Sionnan was almost trading her life for his on an even exchange, and that wouldn't do. When he opened his eyes, she was peering at him in concern, but she pulled her hand away. "What happened to the creature?" he asked, pushing himself up to sitting with her assistance. The school didn't look destroyed, which was a pleasant surprise.

"All of the Dansons are fighting, and Ellen is shielding." The monster roared as if to punctuate her statement, and Grabiner assessed the situation with grim deliberation. Even with all three students wielding fire against it, they'd managed to do little but drive it backwards a few feet. With the Headmistress nowhere to be found, as usual, killing the creature outright would be difficult. He knew he was in no shape for a protracted battle. He looked at his wife with pursed lips.

"I'll have to ask for your assistance once again."

She smiled at him, in the way she had that made him feel he'd been struck full in the face with a sunbeam. "You know you don't even have to ask." Of course, he knew, but he would still ask, every time.

******************

Saying the fight was going badly wasn't quite the right description. To Virginia, it felt like they were having no effect on the unnamed monster, except to distract it from harming anything else, and she was starting to run out of energy. Then she heard something behind her, almost musical, one low, resonant voice and one clear and high, weaving in and out as they spoke the words to a long incantation. She spared a glance backward. Professor Grabiner was sitting up, and Sionnan was beside him, her hand on his shoulder, and they were both wreathed in the glowing light of a major spell in progress.

“What are they doing?” she asked, more to herself than to anyone, but, true to form, Ellen answered, looking back from where she was maintaining their shield with visible strain.

“They're performing a linked spell. He must be too weak to cast it on his own, but normally it's supposed to be difficult to do without years of practice working together.”

“Nothing about them is normal,” Virginia intoned, feeling a sort of resigned disgust. The spell completed with a flash of light, and then the creature in front of them was wrapped in glowing sigils of red and white.

“I think that's **Incandescent Abjuration,** ” Ellen said in an awed tone. “It's a powerful banishing spell.”

“No shit.” That was all Virginia could say; she could feel the magic rolling off the spell in waves as the monster caught in its grasp roared with pain and anger. It was hard to believe that the two of them could cast it together, let alone that Grabiner might have expected to be able to do it himself. Then, like a explosion in reverse, the spell sucked the creature inward and disappeared with a bang. 

“Goodness, it seems I've missed the party,” said the voice of Petunia Potsdam, her timing, as usual, impeccably awful. She went to the Grabiners first, who were clinging together shakily as if neither could remain upright without the support of the other. It might even have been true. A wizened older man in teacher’s robes came with her. Virginia recognized Professor Finch only by reputation. After a few minutes conversation with the Headmistress, he helped Sionnan to support Professor Grabiner in walking back inside the school.

Potsdam turned to the four remaining students, and Virginia noticed that Ellen and Donald were standing side by side, hands clasped. “Well well, it has been a much more exciting day than I had planned, and it's not even sunset. I think you all deserve ten merits each for your outstanding showing against that monster.”

“What was that thing?” William asked, voicing the question on everyone’s minds.

“A magical construct from the Otherworld,” Potsdam answered, “and that's all I can say about it at present. Now, let me see, Miss Middleton, Miss Danson, I suppose you know that you passed your exam with flying colors. Yes, Mr. Danson, you still have to take your exam. Professor Finch will manage the remaining ones for today, but I daresay by the time yours comes around tomorrow, Professor Grabiner will be back to his usual self.” Donald groaned. “Incidentally, girls, I don't think you should expect your roommate back. I expect she’ll want to keep a watch over her husband.”

Potsdam meant to say “back _tonight,_ ” but she didn't. Virginia Danson thought, with unusual prescience, that it marked a turning point. Sionnan really was married, through no design of her own, but she obviously loved her grumpy old husband as much as he loved her. Virginia didn't want to think any harder about the subject.

“Now that the life-threatening trials are over for today, why don't I take you all out to dinner?” the Headmistress said cheerfully. 

“Will the school be safe without you here?” Ellen asked, wringing her hands.

“Oh yes, Professor Finch and Professor Kadlec will be on their guard, and I've strengthened the planar wards. Again. Everything will be fine. Besides, I doubt anything will ever surprise Professor Grabiner like that again. Come along.”

Ellen hesitated, but Virginia shoved her forward, “I’m starving. If three professors can't handle it, we’re screwed anyway.”

********************

By the time Finch had helped Sionnan bring him to his room, Grabiner felt like passing out again. He sat down on the edge of the bed while his wife went in search of the first-aid supplies. Even Potsdam had been impressed by her healing of his injury, but his body could take no more green magic today unless he wanted to end up unconscious. He'd have to be bandaged up the old-fashioned way. He looked at the drab but familiar confines of his bedroom with new eyes. For ten years, he realized, he'd just been waiting to die, and now...

“You know, you do have to take your shirt off if you want me to bandage your wound,” his wife said, standing before him with her mouth quirked into a little half-smile. One of his favorite expressions. “Unless you want me to help you.”

That brought a number of interesting images into his brain, none of which he was in any shape to indulge in. He scowled. “Now is hardly the time to tease me,” he said, shrugging out of his robe and starting to unbutton his shirt.

“I wasn't really teasing you. I would have helped you if you needed help, but I don't want to be accused of having some sort of ulterior motive," she said innocently, but her eyes twinkled as she fished out a towel and some rubbing alcohol.

He stopped midway through unbuttoning to look up at her, unable to quite keep from smiling. “You're telling me you don't have one? I doubt that _highly._ ”

“Not right now,” she said, wagging a finger at him in mock offense. “What kind of monster do you think I am? I am here to assist you in your time of need.” He couldn't help but notice that even as she said this, her eyes lingered on him in a way he found extraordinarily pleasing. It was just his luck to be nearly killed on the day term was finally over. He shrugged his shirt from his shoulders, wincing as it stuck to the blood on his back.

She was gentle as she cleaned his wounds, but it was still painful enough that he didn't feel capable of speaking until she started applying the first bandage. “I should thank you for coming after me. It would have been safer if you'd run to find the Headmistress.”

“Don’t be silly, Hieronymus. I wasn't going to leave you there,” she said, pressing tape into place and moving to examine the wound on his abdomen. It was nothing short of miraculous that her healing magic had managed to fix the no doubt egregious internal damage. Now, though still painful, it really was just a flesh wound, and tomorrow she could mend him the rest of the way with ease. There was something surreal about the fact that he could nearly die today and expect to be completely recovered by tomorrow evening.

“You have such a cavalier attitude towards your own well-being, but you're always fretting over me,” he said, watching her face as she worked, taking account of each expression as if he was a dragon making a list of all the treasure in his hoard. He especially loved the wrinkle in the center of her forehead as she concentrated, the dip in the curve of her upper lip, the crease on the bridge of her nose when she made a face of irritation. All of her was unique and precious to him.

“I could say the same thing about you. You’re always trying to do everything by yourself,” she said, meeting his eyes with her own. They seemed clearer today, less like a raincloud and more like a pool of water he might happily drown himself in. He reached out and pulled her close, not caring about the painful pulling on his scabs. He needed to touch her, to reassure himself that she was real. Their foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingling, and he felt something deep inside him release, unspooling tension like unraveling a ball of yarn. 

“It served me well, until I met you. Now, I seem to be unable to keep my business to myself,” he said, honest but without regret.

"Does it bother you?" she asked. He knew, even without peering into her thoughts, that she wasn't really worried, but she wanted to hear his words. And for the first time, he truly wanted to speak them. Not just because he knew that he should, but because he wanted her to know all that was in his heart.

“No,” he said softly. “I'm pleased to share my life with you, Sionnan, even if I'm not very good at it.”

She smiled, making his heart turn over in his chest. “I don't think you're doing so badly.” She pressed her lips to his cheek, and he held her tighter, one of his hands cradling the back of her skull with his fingers buried in her hair.

“There was a moment…” he said, barely able to get the words out around the tightness in his throat. “I thought I was dying. So many times over the years, I have wished for the end…”

“Hieronymus…” Grabiner put his finger to her lips. He knew she wanted to reassure him, to soothe his hurt, not knowing that she had already done so just by the mere fact of her existence. She stilled, through her brow furrowed with consternation.

"Today I didn't want to die. All I could think about was that I had to keep living, so I could tell you that I love you with my own mouth instead of taking the easy way out. I've been a coward.” He kissed her, not in the way that he wished to kiss her, but as lightly as he could bear while still trying to convey the depth of what he felt. “I love you more than I can say. Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, I’ll stay with you. Forever, if you don't get tired of me,” she said, laughing at what she thought was a ridiculous question. Because they had promised to be together forever, hadn't they?

He couldn't help but chuckle at the misunderstanding. "I never could. But what I meant was, will you stay with me, here, tonight?" The amount of embarrassment he felt over such a simple thing was, he knew, rather ridiculous, especially considering he was much closer to being thirty than to the awkward teenager he felt like. “I know I'm not in any shape for anything… strenuous, but I would like to hold you.” A vast understatement of his feelings. He never wanted to stop touching her. She wrapped her arms around his back, her hands cool against his skin, and he breathed her in. It wasn't enough, but for now, it would have to do.

“Oh,” she said, her voice squeaking in surprise. But she recovered quickly and smiled with delight. “Yes. I would like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apologies if you read the first version. I wasn't fond of this chapter and then I had the genius idea of rewriting part of it from Grabiner's point of view. Hopefully this is better, and it's still setting up important stuff for later. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone leaving comments. It makes me so happy. :)


	11. Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before the May Ball.
> 
> Lots of fluff and plot. The rating will change in the next chapter.

The morning light was clear and golden when Grabiner opened his eyes, and he felt the strange sensation of a warm weight against his chest and in his arms. The throbbing pain in his side was enough reminder of the previous day’s events that he didn’t have to wonder why he had a a sleeping companion. It was the most agreeable sort of miracle to wake up to, in his opinion, and therefore, he ignored the pain to look down at his wife with undisguised wonder. 

Her face was pressed against his chest, the sunlight making her wayward hair into a halo, and the shirt she had borrowed from him had slipped down to reveal the curve of her pale shoulder. His heart spasmed with love and warmth; he wanted to touch her, to press kisses to every inch of her skin, but he also, paradoxically, did not want to disturb the idyllic scene before his eyes. As a compromise, he kissed her gently on the forehead and wrapped his arms more securely around her. The faint scent of her shampoo wafted into his nose, and he let his eyes fall closed. Today, he might be forgiven for sleeping in.

But just as he was starting to drift off, he felt her stirring, going still the moment she registered where she was. “Hieronymus?” she whispered his name, perhaps attempting to judge whether he was awake. 

“Good morning,” he murmured, looking down at her once more, at the soft line of her cheek and the wide crystalline hue of her eyes. She smiled and slipped her arms around his neck. Unable to be anything but pleased by this development, he kissed her forehead again.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her lips brushing against his face as she spoke.

“Rather like I've been stabbed, funnily enough,” he said, and she gave him an exasperated look. “Much better than I expected. Although that may have something to do with the company.”

She smiled, though he could tell she was trying not to. “I take it you’d like me to finish patching you up, then?” 

He didn't really want to let go of her, but on the other hand, the cessation of pain would be a definite improvement. “If you would, I’d be grateful,” he said, releasing her with some reluctance. Sionnan sat up and pushed the blankets off them both, and the sudden cool air raised goosebumps on his skin. The sight of her wearing his shirt was disarmingly attractive, despite the inherent ridiculousness of how large it was, something he hadn't appreciated the previous evening. This proved enough to distract him from the sting of having the medical tape pulled from his abdomen and back, and then he felt the warmth of her palm on his side. Her face was a study in concentration as the magic flowed into him, and then, it was done.

She opened her eyes and smiled, moving her hand to check that all had gone well. “It looks all right, though you’ll have a scar,” she said, running her finger over the newly healed skin in a way that made him shiver. “Does it feel better?”

“I feel perfectly well. You did an excellent job, as usual,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulder. “I feel I should apologize. I'm sure you never imagined our marriage would involve quite so much of you looking after me.”

“Oh, I don't know, Hieronymus.” Her answering smile was full of mischief. “You take about as much care as I thought you would, though I didn't expect quite so much blood.”

“Hmm. You've gotten rather cheeky lately,” he said. Her grin widened.

“Don't pretend you don’t like it,” she said, her face much closer to his own and her chin tipped up in mute invitation.

“I do like it, very much.” This kiss seemed quite different to him than all of their previous kisses. It was patient, but not tentative, perhaps because they now both were confident of their place in each other's heart as well as the general direction their relationship was heading. He did not hesitate to pull her closer so that she was pressed flush against his chest, and she wrapped her arms around his back. Her fingers traced lightly down his spine as their tongues moved together, making him shiver involuntarily. She gasped when he moved his lips to her neck, and the sound stirred his desire almost as much as the feeling of her hands on him, now sliding over his shoulders and chest. 

He let himself fall backward onto the pillows, pulling her astride his waist, and there was so little clothing between them now that he felt all of his thoughts come to a screeching halt. She leaned into him, her palms pressed to his chest as their lips met again, and his hands slipped under her shirt. Her skin was soft and smooth under his fingers, better even than he had imagined it could be, and he was lost in her, her skin and her mouth and her love and…

“Well, it seems you two are having a pleasant morning,” said a voice that did _not belong._ He suspected Sionnan would have screamed had her mouth not been pressed to his, but as it was, her eyes widened to an almost comical roundness. Acting on instinct, he threw the blankets over the both of them. “I suppose that means you’re feeling better, Hieronymus,” Petunia Potsdam continued, either unaware or uncaring of the distress she was causing.

“Don't you know how to knock?!” he growled, giving the Headmistress the most unpleasant glare he could manage. “I fail to believe you are this unaware of the conventions of polite society, Petunia, but I cannot think of any other reason to explain your uninvited presence in my bedroom.”

“I am sorry to interrupt the obviously very interesting conversation you were having,” she said, though he thought she didn't look the least bit contrite, “But I have some information I thought you'd want to know.” He didn't fail to note that there remained no explanation for why she hadn't knocked, but he decided there was no point in argument.

“It had better be some damned important information,” he grumbled under his breath. A giggle issued from under the covers, which which was charming enough to soothe his temper somewhat. “Well, get on with it,” he said, defeated.

“I also brought some clothes and things up for your wife. I didn't think she'd want to go to breakfast wearing your clothes, after all, and besides, she'd probably like a shower before the day gets too old.”

Sionnan poked her head out, as disheveled as a bird in a windstorm, and he suppressed the smile that came to his lips. “I would like a shower…” He could almost see her weighing her options. She didn't like the idea that the Headmistress might purposely be keeping something from her, and at this point, he found he agreed with her. She was his wife, and she had saved his life from a monster that never should have been here in the first place. As far as he was concerned, his affairs were hers.

“I won't make you go,” he assured her, “But I promise to tell you all about it later.” Her answering grin was reward enough and she kissed his cheek before traipsing into the bathroom with the basket of clothes and things Petunia had brought her. He watched her go, filled with both anticipation and deep contentment.

“There is something I never thought I'd see, Hieronymus Grabiner, with a true, natural smile on his face. Will wonders never cease?” He wanted to argue the point, but he knew she was probably correct. Until now, he had never felt he had a reason to smile.

“If you've come here to gloat, I’d appreciate it if you'd save it for later,” he said. He still hadn't forgiven her for barging in and interrupting them, and only the fact that he knew he would have all summer to spend with his wife, perhaps even joining her in later showers, kept his bitterness to a manageable level.

“Although I do feel I deserve a bit of gloating, I've come to tell you what we discovered about that creature and how it came to be on school grounds. It came from the Court of Ice, perhaps a bit too obviously.” 

“I knew I'd seen one somewhere before,” Grabiner replied, pursing his lips. “But that Court has been dormant for years, since their King was killed. What business could they have here?”

“Since they are long-time enemies of your mother, I assumed they were after you,” Potsdam said. He shook his head.

“That hardly makes sense. I'm not even in the line of succession. What would they have to gain?”

“Perhaps the impact was meant to be more psychological than political. You may not be a prince of the fair folk in name, but you cannot deny that you are one of Queen Aine’s favorite children.” Petunia held up a hand to forestall his protests. “It's been centuries, perhaps a millennia, since she has acknowledged a mortal child, let alone brought one to court. And it's not as if she hasn't had others. She's rather famous for it. At the very least, she thinks you are important, and thus, her enemies are likely to do the same.”

He couldn't argue with that logic. Some of the fae had resented and distrusted him as a child for the attention his mother paid him. Luckily, she had been nothing if not supportive of his decision to stay away from the Otherworld since the incident with Violet, and it had the unintended but pleasant consequence of keeping him out of Court politics. “I think the more pressing question is how did the creature get in? That's twice in one term that the wards have been breached. If we cannot protect the students, their parents will, quite rightly, start trying to interfere in our affairs,” he said sourly. Only a few times during his tenure at Iris had he faced a confrontation with irate parents over their children’s grades, and that was unpleasant enough.

“To be fair, this is the first time in ages that our wards have been seriously tested. But here's the surprise; this creature was not gated in. It walked,” Petunia said, raising her eyebrows meaningfully.

Grabiner frowned at this information, pausing in the act of putting a shirt on to think. “I take it after the fiasco with Mr. Ramsey, you erected protections specifically against planar gates?” 

“Yes. Therefore, I suspect whoever helped your little friend onto campus had knowledge of this previous event. Perhaps they might have even been present?” He looked at the Headmistress sharply. She was not smiling.

“You think Damien was involved in this as well? I thought Finch tracked him to Hel. What would he have to do with a Court of the Fae?"

“You'll recall that his father is dead. Finch thought he might be trying to reclaim the recently vacated throne, but how could a barely adult half-demon with no allies, experience, or astonishing skill hope to do so?”

“Perhaps if he allied himself with a powerful outside faction,” Grabiner said, suddenly weary. “But I still don't understand why the Court of Ice would be after me.”

“Either way, it seems clear that they are. Either of their own volition or under the directions of someone else. Several times since the start of term, events transpired that appeared to be designed to test your abilities in particular. Each time, these plans were foiled before you were forced to truly reveal yourself. Though it might not have felt so yesterday, I think we were lucky that the creature caught you off guard. Now, your enemies will likely continue to underestimate you. But I do think your decision to leave school for part of the summer is a wise one. That is still the plan?”

“Yes,” he said, pursing his lips to hide the pleased smile that came to his face every time he thought about it. “I'll need a week or two more to prepare things, but we will indeed be leaving.”

“I know I don't need to warn you to be careful, wherever it is you’re going, but I will,” Petunia said with a gentle smile. “And I will offer one more piece of advice. I think it is time you returned to your mother’s court. I don't believe you'll be able to get to the root of this madness unless you do.” When Potsdam left a few minutes later, Grabiner was still digesting her last suggestion. He didn't like it, not one bit, but he was having trouble dismissing it out of hand. Perhaps it was time to return.

**************************

Sionnan came out of the shower feeling refreshed, and more than a little excited about the direction her life was taking her. Even when she had married Hieronymus, she hardly would have imagined she'd be sleeping in his bed with him, certainly not so soon. And if Petunia hadn't arrived so precipitously… Well, she couldn't be too upset about it. Summer vacation had not yet even officially begun, and once it did, she would have four months alone with Hieronymus Grabiner, more than enough to make up for one interrupted morning.

When she came out of his bathroom, which was nearly as nice as Potsdam’s, in a spare, masculine way, her husband was sitting at his desk, looking pensive. She came up behind him, slipping her arms around his neck and resting her head on one of his shoulders. “So, what did Pertunia want to talk about?”

He brought one long-fingered hand up to envelope both of her own, turning slightly to look her in the eye. “She believes that your old friend Mr. Ramsey may be connected with yesterday's incident. Her evidence is… compelling, if circumstantial. However, we don't have the luxury of discussing it in detail. I've been informed that you have plans today.”

“I do?” As far as Sionnan knew, she wasn't planning on doing anything but help her roommates pack. Hieronymus still had exams to give, but she hoped to at least spend the evening with him. She could see the barest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Petunia intends to take you and your roommates shopping for ball gowns, I believe. Since she knows you and Ellen won't have anything.”

Sionnan frowned. “I wasn't really planning on going to the May Ball. After all, you never go and I’m not that fond of dancing. I'd rather spend the time with you than go alone.”

He was having a difficult time maintaining a serious face when he replied. “It would be quite a shame if you didn't attend, as I would be denied the honor and pleasure of escorting you.”

“You mean, you want to go to the May Ball?” she said, barely able to contain both her astonishment and her glee. 

“I want to go with _you_ ,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I don't know if you've realized this, but I would follow you anywhere, despite my better judgement. Having gone into the Otherworld after you, the high school dance sounds almost relaxing.”

She couldn't help but laugh at that, but once she recovered, she fixed him with a more serious expression. “I'm glad you want to go with me, but I don't want you to allow yourself to be miserable just for my sake. I would be perfectly happy staying here with you.”

“There's no need to fret over me. I want to take you because I know you will enjoy it, and because I think it is important for you to have as many normal school experiences as possible considering our decidedly abnormal situation. And seeing you enjoy yourself has proved to be one of the chiefest pleasures of my life.” She was still processing this last statement when he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Now run along. Your friends are waiting for you in the cafeteria. If you don't hurry, you won't get any breakfast.”

“And what about you? I hope you’re going to eat breakfast, Hieronymus,” she said sternly and he chuckled.

“I will. But first I have to take a shower, since I was prevented, by circumstances beyond my control, from joining yours.” The very idea made her cheeks hot, and she saw by the way his mouth curled upward on one side that this was exactly as he intended. “If I show up to give final exams looking like a vagabond, my reputation as someone to be feared may disintegrate entirely.”

“All right,” she said. “I suppose I’ll see you when I get back,” she said, this time kissing him on his cheek. He nodded, but then as she was about to pull away, he grasped her hand.

“You could come back here, if you wish,” he said, his voice going quiet and rough in the way it always did when broaching a difficult subject. “We are married, and as far as I'm concerned, what's mine is yours. From now on, that includes this room. I've included you in the wards, so you can come and go as you please.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand, her heart suddenly full of affection. “Then I'll come back here tonight.” He nodded again, and released her hand, seeming unwilling to speak further. It was difficult to leave him, when she had so many things she wanted to say, but she felt he needed some time to himself, and she didn't want to be late.

*********************************

“So, Professor Grabiner is all right, then?” Ellen asked several hours later as they sat around a table in the food court. The Headmistress had left them alone to have lunch while she went to look for a new teapot or something.

“Yes. I finished healing him this morning. There's nothing but a scar now. I expect he's giving exams as we speak.” Virginia leaned over the table with a conspiratorial expression, the straw from her slurpee still stuck in her mouth.

“So, last night, did you do it?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows. Ellen gasped and Sionnan went red despite herself.

“I thought you didn’t want to know about that kind of thing,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I don’t, as it’s Grabiner, but you’re also one of my two best friends. I mean, that’s like a life milestone, isn’t it?.” Ellen snorted at this, but Sionnan simply shook her head.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but we didn’t do anything last night but sleep. He almost _died_ yesterday, and with the amount of healing magic put into him, it’s really a miracle he stayed awake long enough for me to bandage him.”

“I didn’t realize it was that bad,” Virginia said, her voice now quiet. “Although, in that case, it’s amazing that you were able to save him.”

Sionnan shrugged. “It was only lucky that the wound wasn’t terribly complex, but as it did go all the way _through_ him, there was some internal damage. The biggest issue was blood loss though, and that was simple to fix.” She let out a sigh and smiled. “I’m just glad we were able to get there in time, especially since the Headmistress didn’t show up until after it was over. You know, she has the most awful timing; she came right into the bedroom this morning without even knocking.”

“Oh really? So there _was_ something going on,” Virginia said, leaning forward again with her eyes gleaming.

“Well, there might have been, if we hadn’t been interrupted,” she groused. “But I’m going to be staying with him from now on,” she added, smiling. “He’s included me in his wards, so I can come whenever I want.” Perhaps her friends would not appreciate the magnitude of this gesture, but Sionnan understood that the act of sharing his room with her was more important than any physical intimacy. Hieronymus valued his privacy more than almost anything else, and by allowing her unlimited access to his bedroom, he was giving her the right to interfere in his life at her leisure. Not that she hadn’t always done so, to a certain extent, but now she was invited. 

“Kind of figured that was going to happen,” Virginia said, grinning. “I mean, not about the wards but that you wouldn’t be coming back to our room. Ellen and I talked about it last night.” Sionnan raised her eyebrows in surprise, both at Virginia’s unusual perceptiveness and at the fact that she didn’t seem upset.

“I know married people don’t have to live together in the magical world,” Ellen said, “But it only seems natural that you’d want to be him now, since you’ll be spending the whole summer together. Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”

“No,” Sionnan replied. “I think he’s enjoying keeping it a secret rather more than is necessary. What about you two?” The original plan had been for Ellen to stay with Virginia’s family, but even after the two girls had made up, Ellen seemed unsure what she wanted to do.

Ellen’s cheeks flushed, and she wrung her hands anxiously. “I don’t know. Donald has been talking about spending the summer at school…”

“Hey, if you want to spend the summer with Donald, it’s no skin off my nose,” Virginia said, though Sionnan wasn’t sure she was being completely honest. “The food is better at my house though.”

“Well, girls, are you ready to continue our expedition?” Petunia asked, appearing rather suddenly as she always did. They gathered their things and headed back to the stores, and Sionnan was so busy between looking at dresses and contemplating Ellen’s dilemma that she didn’t even think about what was waiting for her at home.

They didn’t get back to Iris until late in the evening, after stopping at The Glen for dinner. Sionnan followed her now former roommates back to the dorm to pick up some of her things. 

“The dress you found is amazing,” Ellen said as they entered the room and hung all three dresses in the closet, still wrapped in paper and plastic. Sionnan was not, in general, a fan of the trappings of girlhood, pink and skirts and makeup and lace. But just looking at the dress she had chosen made her feel a bit like Cinderella, reminding her of a time in her childhood when she had still believed that her Fairy Godmother might come to rescue her from all her problems. Instead, she had a fairy husband, and though he came with problems of his own, she still felt transformed by the experience.

“I’m just glad Petunia agreed to help us with our hair and make-up tomorrow,” she said with a sigh of anticipation. “I don’t know about you two, but I have no idea what I’m doing as far as that goes.”

Virginia laughed. “That’s a lie. You know neither of us have any clue either, you’re just too nice to say so. Still, she’s right. Your dress is rockin’. And yours too, Ellen. Lavender suits you. We’re going to blow them away at the May Ball.”

That cheerful thought buoyed Sionnan as she went up the stairs. She knew there was no reason to be nervous, as she had just been there earlier that day, and he had invited her, after all, but she couldn’t help the little thrill of anxiety in her heart. Should she knock? It felt rather silly to be knocking on the door of her own bedroom, as it was to be from now on, so she decided against it. 

When she pushed the door open, her husband was sitting up in the bed, reading. He looked up as she entered, his expression both pleased and relieved. Perhaps he had worried she’d changed her mind. It was hard to overestimate how the invention of cell phones reduced misunderstandings in the mundane world. Though if he’d truly been concerned, he could have spoken mind to mind. “You’re later than I expected. I was considering taking Petunia to task for contributing to the delinquency of minors.”

She laughed. “Hardly. By the time we got through choosing dresses and shoes and all our other regalia, it was past dinner time, so we went to the Glen.” 

“Since you do not appear to have any of these things with you, I suppose you intend for me to be surprised tomorrow?”

“That is the idea, yes,” she said, and unable to keep herself away any longer, she crawled onto the bed and sat down beside him. He put his arm around her without hesitation and she leaned against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar, soothing scents of cedar and ink. “How did exams go?”

“No one failed today, which is a miracle,” he said, closing his book and pulling her closer. “Did you enjoy your girls’ day out?”

“I did,” she replied easily. “But I’m glad to be home.” _Home._ It felt like such a powerful word in this context, the acknowledgement that they had a home together, or at least, that they were making one. He squeezed her shoulder in silent agreement. “What are you reading today?”

“Poetry again,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I'm becoming a regular Byron. I blame you entirely.”

She laughed aloud. “I don't think you're nearly dramatic enough for Lord Byron. Or promiscuous, thankfully.”

“True. Shall I read to you?” 

“Yes, please,” she said, nestling herself against more comfortably. He cleared his threat and started to read in his deep resonant voice.

Reanimated, spirit restored,  
reincorporated, body restored,  
I contemplate between dreams  
the scene I've stolen  
like the one who took fire,  
like the one who opened the devil box  
out of curiosity,  
like the one who saw her equal  
and her life's love  
were the same and so effortlessly  
brought them together.  
I took exactly  
what was not mine,  
with my eyes.  
I saw the sea inside you:  
on your surface, mud.  
I kissed you like a shipwreck,  
like one who insufflates the word.  
With my lips I traveled  
that entire continent,  
Adam, from dirt, Nothing.  
I knew myself in your substance,  
grounded there,  
emitting aromatic fumes,  
an amatory banquet of ashes.

Grabiner finished reading and turned to look at her, wondering, with a slightly uncomfortable amount of anxiety, what she thought of his choice of romantic poetry. But her eyes were closed. On her lips was a gentle smile, and her breathing was slow and even. He chuckled and put down his book, before bending down to untie her shoes. As he did so, he was strongly reminded of the time before, on the night of the solstice, when he had let her sleep in his bed rather than wake her. That time he had been annoyed by everything, the too tight knots in her shoelaces, her silly striped socks, and the way she had drowsily murmured his name as he took off her glasses. 

In hindsight, he knew that half the reason he had found it so irritating was because even then he had been charmed by her. Now, he had no reason not to acknowledge how dear she was to him, every word, every movement, every quirk of her expression. He took off her glasses and set them on the bedside table before putting out the lights. Then he crawled into bed next to her and and gathered her close, pressing a kiss to her brow. With her warmth and scent to comfort him, sleep came quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to everyone who reads and comments, and especially to Tress, who read the whole dratted thing just to answer a pacing question.
> 
> The poem is Fons by Pura Lópes-Colomé


	12. Under the Hawthorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The May Ball and the consummation of their marriage. Note the rating has changed. This particular sexy time has very little plot but expect much more of both in the future.

On the morning of May 1st, Sionnan woke up alone. She had a vague memory of Hieronymus kissing her goodbye when the sky was still gray, and when she looked over at his pillow, there was a small scrap of paper on it. _I have some matters to attend to, but I will meet you outside the gym at 6:30. - H.G._ A shiver of anticipation traveled down her spine. It was still difficult to believe that her husband, the paragon of grumpy unsociability, would go to the May Ball of his own free will, but there was the proof, in writing. 

She folded the note carefully and slipped it inside her journal as if preserving evidence of their relationship. And perhaps she was. Despite the fact that she was the one living it, their love was so improbable that, somewhere deep within her, there lived the fear that it would one day disappear. But just now, that fear was a small thing, overshadowed by excitement. The clock on the bedside table said it was just after ten; it was the first time in ages she'd been allowed to sleep so late, and it felt wonderful. However, if she didn't hurry and get in the shower, she'd miss lunch as well as breakfast, and the last thing she wanted to do at the ball was faint from hunger.

Ellen was in the cafeteria when Sionnan arrived, and the two girls took their lunches out to the courtyard to eat. They were far from the only students outside enjoying the sunshine, but most people seemed keen to avoid interacting with Professor Grabiner’s wife, so they had little trouble finding a patch of grass to themselves. Sionnan was unsure how to feel about her new notoriety. It was better than being mocked and harassed, and she had never been the type to need more than a few close friends, but it was still a little disheartening. “I didn’t expect to see you until later today,” Ellen said in between bites of sandwich. “I thought you’d be with Professor Grabiner.”

“He left early this morning on ‘secret business’,” Sionnan replied with a lopsided smile on her face. “I’m sure it has to do with whatever he’s plotting for summer vacation. And what about you? Have you made your decision yet?”

Ellen bit her lip, twirling the end of a shoelace between her fingers. “I don’t know. Donald is definitely staying here for the summer, and I think that’s better for him. Certainly, us all staying in the same house would be awkward. They both say they don’t care what I do, but I wonder if that’s true.” She sighed. “What do you think?”

Sionnan did not feel at all qualified to answer this question. Even before she had become a witch, she hadn’t had the best track record with female friends and her romantic experience was limited to several unrequited crushes, Damien’s ill-fated attempt at seduction, and the man to whom she was now married. Still, she would do what she could. “Well, I think it would be cruel of either of them to be upset about your decision, but you did promise Virginia already. And Donald will have his roommate here, so it’s not as if he’ll be alone.”

“So you think I should stay with Virginia’s family?” Ellen said, her tone caught somewhere between relief and desperation.

“I guess? I mean, I do understand wanting to stay with Donald. You have feelings for him, and they’re new and exciting. But I feel if your relationship can’t survive summer vacation, then perhaps it isn’t meant to be. I’ve been told that married witches and wizards are expected to have their own lives apart from their spouses so it stands to reason that you should do the same when you're dating.”

Ellen gave her a dubious look. “If that’s the case, you seem to be bucking the trend,” she said, and Sionnan blushed.

“I’ve never claimed our relationship as normal,” she said, feeling somewhat defensive while conceding the point. “But neither of us intended for things to turn out this way. I daresay if it hadn’t been for Damien trying to steal my soul, I might have spent some of the summer with you at the Dansons. Hieronymus has never asked me to dance attendance on him, even after we acknowledged our feelings, but the soul bond does make it uncomfortable to be separated for too long.” Even now she could feel a niggling discomfort, his physical distance straining on her mind like a stretched rubber band. 

“I know. I didn't mean to imply that there’s something wrong with your marriage. It's just that I hate how right you are,” Ellen said, sighing again. “I didn’t want to disappoint Donald, but in the end, my friendship with Virginia is more important. She did ask me first, and of the two of them, she’s more likely to be offended anyway.” She let out a long breath, and then smiled, obviously relieved to have the decision made. “It’s a shame you can’t come spend a week with us at least.”

“Petunia says the soul bond will be less uncomfortable after a few years, but for right now, it’s best if we stay in relatively close proximity. But maybe you can come visit us. I don’t think we’ll be away for the whole summer.”

After lunch, they walked back to the dorm room together. Ellen and Virginia needed to pack, as they would be leaving the following afternoon, and Sionnan felt she ought to pack up some of her things as well. She didn’t own much outside of her clothes, but everything she did possess would have to go into the room she shared with her husband eventually. Virginia was clearly delighted that Ellen was spending the summer with her, and the atmosphere was cheerful, if slightly nostalgic. 

“Remember the first exam?” Virginia said as she picked up a fist sized chunk of rubble from inside her desk and eyed it fondly.

“Is that a piece of the dungeon wall?” Ellen asked, frowning. “I’m surprised that it didn’t disappear. I assumed the walls of the dungeon were some kind of advanced illusion.”

“Guess not,” Virginia said, grinning as she tossed the stone up in the air and caught it before depositing in a box. “I really thought Grabiner would tell me off for trying to keep it, but he never said anything. To tell you the truth, he was a little out of it.”

Sionnan thought back to that day and smiled. “Your exam was right after mine, so…”

“You teleported outside, didn't you?” Ellen said, “I remember the Headmistress commenting on it.”

“Into a tree,” Sionnan admitted, “And when Hieronymus came out to rescue me, I fell right out on top of him. He was understandably upset, but more so because Petunia happened to come by just then. She made some rather suggestive comments.” Virginia laughed herself nearly hoarse imagining it.

At four o’clock, they all went up to the Headmistress’s quarters with their dresses and shoes and other accessories, and with Petunia’ gleeful assistance, fixed their hair and applied makeup. When Sionnan looked at herself in the mirror, she could hardly believe it was her own reflection. Her dress was dark blue at first glance, with flowing detached sleeves, but whether due to the many layers of translucent chiffon or some subtle magic, the color of the full skirt shifted every time she moved, now aqua, now indigo or sapphire. The fabric of the bodice was embroidered with thousands of tiny metallic beads that gave the illusion of a fish’s scales, and all of her accessories were silver, evoking waves and the moon. Her hair was too short to do much in the way of styling, so instead she wore a tiara with a horned moon of opal set in the center.. Sionnan never wore makeup, normally, so she had been reticent in the subject, but the Headmistress had applied the blue and silver accents so subtly that it enhanced her facial features rather than obscuring them.

“What do you think, dearie?” Potsdam asked, bouncing on her toes like an anxious toddler.

“It's amazing. I barely recognize myself. Thank you,” she said, giving the Headmistress a careful hug.

“Oh, you're welcome, lambkin. It will all be worth it to watch your husband stare at you all night. I almost wish I could be there the moment he first lays eyes on you, but I have to get my own outfit in order. All three of you look fabulous.”

“Sure we do,” Virginia said, sashaying theatrically in her bright yellow gown. “Like I said, we’re going to knock ‘em dead.”

“Hopefully not literally,” Ellen muttered under her breath. “But come on, it’s nearly 6:30. Isn't that when you're supposed to meet Professor Grabiner?”

“Oh, you can't be late for that,” Petunia agreed, “He’ll work himself into a frenzy. Run along.” They exited with many more thanks to the Headmistress and hurried down the hall. Sionnan was grateful she’d opted for ballet flats because she would hate to have to hurry anywhere on high heels. They went down the stairs and around the corner, and there he was, doing his best not to look impatient, though Sionnan could see the tension in every line of his posture.

“Is that Professor Grabiner?!” Virginia exclaimed, and Ellen pulled her back behind the corner with a shushing noise. 

“I don't know who else it would be,” Ellen said with an exasperated sigh. Certainly, there weren't any students quite that tall. Sionnan smiled. Even from the back she could tell that he looked magnificent, in a suit with a much longer coat than was probably fashionable but for a wizard did not look at all out of place.

“Well, I've never seen him look like _that_ before,” Virginia hissed. “I suppose I can sort of see the appeal,” she added, crossing her arms over her chest in obvious annoyance. Sionnan shook her head, but then her roommates shoved her forward. She supposed there was no reason to keep him waiting. 

Her approach was quiet, and so, though he must have been expecting her at any moment, he was so caught up in his own likely ridiculous anxieties that he was not aware of her until she put her hand on the small of his back. He spun around so fast he had to catch ahold of her arm to steady himself. “Sionnan,” he said, gruff and breathless with surprise, his pupils widening perceptibly at the sight of her. “You look positively enchanting,” he said finally, holding her at arms’ length to get the full effect.

“You're looking especially handsome today as well,” she said smiling up at him and resting her hands on his shoulders. Someone, probably Potsdam, had obviously told him the colors of her dress, because his elaborately embroidered vest was dark blue and his tie was deep emerald. 

“I would question your taste in men, but as I am the primary benefactor, I suppose I will let it rest,” he said with a wry smile. “I have something for you. Two things, actually.”

“So that's what you were up to all day. Buying presents,” she in a mock chiding tone. His smile widened; he was inordinately pleased with himself.

“Not all day. I also had to prepare for the ball, lest I look even more out of place next to my gorgeous wife, and I had to see to a few matters related to our summer plans, which I am still not at liberty to discuss,” he said, his eyes twinkling. She knew there was no point in questioning him. The more she inquired about the surprise, the more pleasure he got keeping it from her, and thus, the longer he would be inclined to do so. Seeing she would not be baited, he picked up two small boxes from the stone ledge behind him. The first contained a small cluster of white flowers intended to be affixed to her wrist. “Let it never be said that I did not follow all the appropriate traditions,” he said as he slid it over her hand.

“They’re lovely flowers,” she said, admiring the simple five-petaled blossoms with their pale pink centers and long rose-colored anthers. 

“They are blooms from the hawthorn tree, which is often associated with both the Fair Folk and May Day. I thought it was appropriate.”

“Very,” she agreed. “But aren’t I supposed to have gotten you a matching one for your lapel? I feel I’ve been derelict in my wifely duties.”

Grabiner chuckled lightly. “You are a much better wife than I deserve, flowers or no. I think having coordinated our outfits should be sufficient. Now please turn around so I can give you your other present.” She raised an eyebrow, curious, but turned just as he'd asked. After a moment, she felt cold metal slide over her collarbone while his fingers brushed the back of her neck in a way that made her blood heat and her hair stand on end. She shivered and heard an answering rumble of pleased laughter. “I don't know how women manage fastening these tiny clasps without looking,” he grumbled, but then she felt the weight of the necklace settle on her neck. She craned her neck awkwardly to look at it and gasped. It was made of a silvery metal, several chains draped and interlocking in a complex manner, and at every junction were blue and white gems sparkling in the light. The sapphires and diamonds depicted the phases of the moon, with a large star sapphire right in the center.

“Hieronymus, it's so beautiful,” she said, turning to wrap her arms around his waist. Somehow, she had no doubt that the gems were genuine, because that was the sort of thing her husband would find important, and therefore, it probably cost a fortune. She wanted to ask, but at the same time, did not want to know.

“Well, you deserve it, for your forbearance in putting up with me,” he said, and when she looked up at him, his cheeks were flushed. “Consider it a very belated wedding present. It suits you.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes looking at her intensely over her own knuckles. “We had best be going before I succumb to my strong desire to kiss you and therefore smudge your lovely makeup beyond repair.”

Her cheeks were hot but she was not displeased. “Something to save for later then,” she said, slipping her arm through his elbow.

“Indeed,” he said, and it was spoken like a promise.

***************************

Despite arriving at the ball fashionably late, or perhaps because of this, Sionnan could feel every eye upon them as they stood at the top of the stairs and their names were announced just like out of a fairy tale. Most of the student body seemed fairly stunned to see them, and it was difficult to tell if that was because of their appearance, or the mere fact of their attendance. Potsdam had said that Grabiner had never attended a May Ball in the past. 

Now they walked down the stairs hand in hand, and Ellen and Virginia clapped, as did Donald, William, Minnie, and Jacob. Potsdam, of course, was applauding with all her might, as well as the other Professors, and this seemed to spur the rest of the students on. By the time they actually reached the floor of the gym, magically transformed into an elegant ballroom, everyone was clapping, and Hieronymus looked like he wanted to sink into the floor even as he scowled forbiddingly. 

But the band had already started to play, so once he pulled them into the shade of a nearby pillar, most people appeared to quickly forget about them. “Man, look how popular you two are all of a sudden. It's like a celebrity power couple,” Virginia said as she approached, giving Sionnan a light punch on the shoulder. “I hate to admit it, but you look good together.” Ellen, who'd been lurking in the background, beamed in agreement.

“Thank the gods I have your approval, Miss Danson. I hardly know how I'd survive otherwise,” Grabiner said, somewhere between amused and annoyed. Sionnan laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. She could tell, knowing him in a way that no one else did, that he was nervous. He knew how to be a teacher, but now that classes were over, she suspected he didn't know how to act around the others. But then Donald came over and took Ellen to the refreshments, and Virginia wandered off with some girls from the Sports Club, and they were alone. He wrapped both of his arms around her waist so that she leaned against his chest, and she listened as his heartbeat slowed.

“Are you all right, Hieronymus?” she asked, looking up into his face. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I am. I admit I was surprised to suddenly be thrust into the limelight like that, but I suppose we’ve earned a bit of notoriety,” he said, his expression only mildly annoyed. The music stopped for a moment, and the crowd shifted, dispersing and reforming like a flock of swallows in the sky, and then a new song began, slow and sweet, lead by a lone violinist. Grabiner’s expression turned wistful. “Shall we dance?” he asked with a small smile.

“I'd love to,” she said, taking the hand he offered. “But I hope you aren't expecting anything _elaborate_. “ It had occurred to her that her husband might be the exact sort of person who would know proper ballroom dancing. But he shook his head as he lead her out onto the floor.

“I am perfectly aware that most people do not encounter waltzing as part of their formal education, but dancing is much like linked magic or dueling. As long as you relax and follow the natural flow of movement, you'll find yourself doing the right thing by instinct.” Despite the irony of being told to relax by one of the most tightly wound people she’d ever met, his predication proved accurate. He took her hand in his and put his other hand on her hip, and as she rested her free hand on his shoulder, she remembered their first accidental dance together. She had been overly aware of him then, instinctively knowing at once who it was and then trying to convince herself otherwise. 

Now, she looked up into his eyes and saw herself reflected in them with an almost reverent love. He pulled her closer, and she found that as long as she didn't think about things too hard, she could get all the cues for where to go from the slight movements of his body. There was something about it that was intensely intimate. They turned, and his hip pressed into hers, briefly. She could hear his breath catch in his throat. The song ended, and they retreated back to the pillar, aware of no one but each other. He caressed her face, and his fingers came away streaked with glitter.

“Perhaps we should get a drink,” he said roughly. “Leaving now would be unaccountably impolite even for me.”

********************************

The process of getting refreshments was both protracted and slightly irritating, which meant that it was perfect for distracting Grabiner from the more carnal thoughts aroused by close proximity to his wife. They got their snacks and punch, and after a while Sionnan’s roommates came back and claimed her. He did not begrudge them their fun. In fact, there was something almost soothing about watching her whole-hearted enjoyment in taking group pictures and dancing to ‘YMCA’. He wondered what higher power dictated that every school dance since the 1980’s had to feature that song. 

Sionnan danced with her friends and with Donald Danson, who grinned at him rather cheekily, but was perhaps somewhat disappointed to receive nothing but an arched eyebrow in return. Grabiner saw no reason to rise to that bait. If there was anything he trusted, it was the love and loyalty of his wife. It was perhaps a bit strange for him, the knowledge that he trusted one person so completely, but then, they Were linked by something much deeper than the simple vows sworn in the school dungeon, a bond which transcended time and death. It was nothing that could be threatened by dancing.

Professor Finch came by, offering him congratulations and a drink from a flask. The elder teacher’s taste in alcohol was terrible; the stuff burned his throat like liquid fire, but it did produce a somewhat relaxing effect. By the time Finch left, Grabiner was feeling almost cheerful.

When Sionnan came back to him almost an hour later, she was flushed and starry-eyed. He let her drink the rest of his punch and she leaned against him quite contentedly. “I'm sorry you aren't having any fun, Hieronymus,” she said after a moment.

“Fun, I've been told, makes me uneasy,” he said, smiling down at her and stroking her hair. “I find watching you enjoy yourself to be surprisingly therapeutic.” The music paused once again before starting another slow song, a familiar tune to someone who’d grown up with nothing but classical music. As the opening bars of ‘Moonlight Sonata’ rang through the air, he took her small hand in his. “Would you care to dance again?”

“I would,” she agreed, and they moved together towards the center of the room. This second time, he felt less hesitant about holding her close, and he was aware of the warmth of her body even through the many layers of his clothing. Her fingers rested against the back of his neck, leaving a slightly ticklish sensation, and as they moved with the slow time of the music, she looked up at him with love blazing in her eyes. The building might have fallen down, and he doubted he would have noticed anything but her. The music faded away, and he bent down and kissed her, full on her soft lips. He did not care who was watching, was not even aware of them, really, as her hand moved to rest against his cheek. It was a moment out of time, but only a moment. Music started again, this time something loud and slightly frenetic, perhaps intended to drive overly affectionate lovers away from the dance floor. He decided he was ready to be driven away.

“Shall we go for a walk?” She nodded, and they, heedless of stares and whispers, walked out into the orchard hand in hand. The moon was not full, but still bright as they traveled away from the lights and noise and into the blossom-scented darkness. A breeze rustled the leaves above them, and Sionnan shivered. He took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

She gathered it around herself, slipping her arms into the comically long sleeves, and smiled up at him. “Thank you, that’s much better.”

He pulled her close, because he could not do otherwise. He was a barren, lonely planet, and she was the sun with which he was determined to collide, even if he burned to ashes in the process. Their foreheads pressed together, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding just under the edge of his collar. “I hope you aren’t too upset that we left the ball so early,” he said, his voice quiet in keeping with the nighttime stillness.

“No. That was just about my limit for crowds and noise. Besides, I’d much rather spend the evening with my very favorite person. It is you, in case you were wondering,” she added with a wide grin.

He found himself laughing, at her or at himself, he wasn’t sure. “I do love you, most egregiously,” he said, taking her face in his hand so that he might kiss her.

“Egregiously?” she murmured, her eyes filled with humor. “Don’t you think that’s rather unkind, Hieronymus?”

“I think it’s perfectly accurate. I am sure I could love you half as much as I currently do, and it would still be more than anyone has ever loved before or since.”

“You’re almost poetic when you exaggerate. It’s terribly charming.” This time, she kissed him, standing up on her toes, and it was hard to tell whether it was by accident or on purpose that her teeth dragged over his lower lip. Whatever it was, it focused the attention of every atom of his body to a laser-like intensity, and he returned her kiss with such open-mouthed passion that by the time they broke apart, she was clinging to him just to remain upright.

“Perhaps we should retire for the evening,” he said, his voice gone low and rasping.

“I think that would be best,” she agreed.

***************************

By the time they actually reached their bedroom, Sionnan was practically vibrating with anticipation. His hands seems to linger on her as he helped her out of his jacket. She went into the bathroom to start divesting herself of makeup and jewelry, and a few moment later, as she was unclasping the beautiful necklace, her husband came to lean against the doorway, his vest and tie discarded, suspenders hanging loose against his thighs. She smiled at him in the mirror. “Since you’re here, you may as well help me unzip this dress. I can hardly reach it,” she said, trying to mask her nervousness and excitement with humor. 

“Of course,” he said, approaching her with quiet deliberateness. His eyes caught hers in the mirror, dark and intent, and held them as he lowered the zipper slowly and then trailed his fingers back up her spine. She drew in a jagged breath and turned to him. His hands moved down her arms, sliding her sleeves away, and then there was nothing holding the dress in place but the friction of it against her skin. He bent his head down to her neck and left a warm kiss in the hollow of her shoulder that made her shiver and lean into him. Her dress fell around her feet in a rustle and slither of fabric. He drew in a sharp breath, his fingers flexing on her shoulders as she stood before him in nothing but her underthings. She could tell that he was almost afraid to touch her. 

“Let me help you,” she said, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. The first time she had done so, weeks ago, he had stopped her. Now he nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed. His eyes never left her face as she undid the buttons one by one and bared his skin to the air. When that was done, she slid her arms inside his shirt, her fingers slipping along the bare skin of his waist, and kissed him on the chest, right over his heart. He trembled in her embrace, his hands cupping her face with utmost gentleness, and then he kissed her, deeply, hungrily, his tongue sweeping over the roof of her mouth, his fingers twisting in her hair. She felt her knees go weak. 

Quite suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms, as if she weighed nothing, and with a few long strides, he brought her to the bed, not lying her down, but sitting with her in his lap. She twined her arms around his neck, letting her hands linger on his skin, feeling the movement of the muscles of his shoulders as his hands moved over her, his fingers caressing down the sides of her neck and over her shoulders. Meanwhile their mouths were exploring widely, kissing cheeks, and necks and eyelids and earlobes, until she felt like her skin was only a covering for the fire that burned inside her.

He fumbled with the clasp of her bra, and she reached back to do it herself. Their fingers brushed in a way that felt much more erotic than usual, and then the offending garment fell away, elicinting a sigh of relief from her and one of admiration from her husband. He cradled her breasts like something fragile and precious, circling her nipples with his thumbs until they peaked. A soft moan escaped her, her back arching slightly, and she heard the hitch in his breath. Hie eyes were dark, almost liquid, as he leaned back onto the bed and brought her with him so that they were lying together, chest to chest, their legs entangled. 

“Sionnan,” he said her name like a prayer, his voice hoarse as he swallowed back some emotion. “This is still what you want?”

“It is,” she said firmly. “I want to be with you in every sense of the word, Hieronymus. I think you know that,” she said, moving her hand to caress his cheek. He turned and pressed his mouth to her palm.

“It never hurts to be sure,” he said, and she could feel his tension easing ever so slightly as he made to sit up again. “Do you know the spell?” She knew what he meant. Potsdam had taught them all the green magic required to prevent unintended pregnancy as a special ‘Valentines lesson’. No matter how much Sionnan might want to have his children, that was something for the future, not for right now. 

“I do,” she said, and she traced the sigil onto her own skin and felt the magic sink in. As she did so, she heard the sound of fabric falling to the floor, and then he was leaning over her, and she let her eyes wander over the whole of him. He was much as she imagined he'd be, his broad shoulders spattered with freckles, a faint shadow of hair on his chest that travelled in a neat line over his lean stomach and down to the part of him which both interested and intimidated her most. She had nothing to compare it to, but it certainly seemed to be of decent size. 

His kiss distracted her from fretting, and she let her herself be lost in the softness of his lips and the contrasting hard sharpness of his teeth when he sucked her lower lip between them. His hand glided down over her stomach until he cupped the warm softness between her legs. She shivered with pleasure and anticipation at his touch, and then he pulled her underwear down and away. He kissed her hipbone and his fingers traced along the inside of her thigh and then between her damp folds. His touch was so gentle as to barely be detectable, but it made her writhe with unexpected pleasure. “Hieronymus,” she called out, desperate suddenly to have him.

His eyes were wide and devouring as he kneeled over her. “Are you ready, my love?” he asked, and she nodded, too overwhelmed to even form words. He entered her carefully, and even so it wasn't exactly…. comfortable, at least, not at first. When he was completely inside her, he stilled, panting and trembling as much from the effort of control, she thought, as the excess of sensation, and the sting ebbed. She reached up and ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, and his muscles shivered under her touch. “You're all right?” he asked in a low voice.

“I am. I love you,” she said, sliding her hand back up to his shoulders. His eyes closed, and he pulled back before slowly plunging in again. He leaned down to kiss her neck, and she buried her fingers in his dark curls. The more they moved together, the more that discomfort gave way to bliss, and soon her sighs turned to moans. It was just about then that her mental shields failed. His eyes snapped open, and she felt his thoughts flow into hers, and knew once again the strength of his love and need. His control was hanging by a thread. He wanted to make this moment last for her, to give her the same pleasure she gave him, but it had been so long. Only now, his desire fed into her own, and when he next came into her, it was pure rapture. He could no longer hold back, and they moved together in growing ecstasy, not even bothering to muffle their cries. 

She could feel the climax nearing, the heat tightening in her belly, and some instinct made her wrap her legs around his hips. He groaned so deep in his throat it was almost a growl and thrust into her a final time. A wave of pleasure exploded in slow motion along every nerve, and she moaned unashamedly as she felt him find his own release inside her. In her mind, he declared his love for her a thousand times because he lacked the breath to speak aloud. Their damp foreheads pressed together as waves of aftershocks shuddered through their bodies. After a moment, he rolled to lie beside her, and she nestled herself into his arms with supreme contentment. 

“Much better in person,” she muttered into his chest hair. He chuckled and stroked her hair and her back, as if he could not quite get enough of the feeling of her skin under his fingers. This she understood, but she was feeling too limp and languorous to reciprocate.

“You are a wonder,” he said, and he raised his hand to dispel the lights, and then pulled the covers over them, tossing some discarded piece of clothing to the floor. When he laid back down, he gathered her close against him, and she could hear the steady and reassuring beat of his heart in his chest. There were many things she wanted to say to him, about how she loved him more than she loved life and air and sunshine, and never wanted to be parted from him, but his warmth was very soothing. She felt suddenly drained of energy. “I love you too,” he murmured against her hair, and she remembered nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who keep a reading and commenting. As you may have noticed, updates have slowed, but that's mostly because I have so much on my plate. Your input gives me life.


	13. Hearth and Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sionnan finally finds out what her husband has been planning for summer vacation, and they have a conversation about the metaphysics of soul bonds. Lots of dialogue in this chapter.

Though it was not the first time she had awoken in her husband’s embrace, this morning felt different to Sionnan, in a good way. For one thing, she woke first, and turning carefully in his arms, she had the opportunity to gaze at his sleeping face. She’d noticed, back in February when he’d been sick with the flu, how peaceful he looked in sleep, his brows smooth and untroubled and his mouth soft. His hair was even wilder than usual, and she reached out to smooth it back from his forehead. 

He sighed at her touch but did not wake, his arm briefly flexing around her back as if he feared she might try to escape. Her heart felt full to bursting with the love she bore for the man in front of her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, the sensation of his bare skin under her fingers reminding her of the events of the night before. Her lips curled into a joyful smile, even as heat flooded her cheeks. It had been a wonderful night, and now, no one could argue that their marriage was merely contractual. The thought pleased her so much that she was moved to kiss his cheek. 

“Good morning,” he mumbled into her neck, kissing the hollow of her shoulder before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “You seem in good spirits.” He sounded relieved; she supposed it was just like him to worry that she might have regrets.

“I am,” she agreed, grinning brightly at him. “I can't imagine why I wouldn't be, having woken up next to the person I love most in the world, after spending a perfect evening with him the night before.”

“Hmmmm,” was all he could manage to say for a moment, his cheeks turning red. “When you put it that way, I feel like a bad person for not being more cheerful.”

“I don't expect you to be cheerful, Hieronymus. I expect you to be yourself, as you are the man I fell in love with,” she said kissing him soundly on the mouth. He rolled onto his back, pulling her in top of him, and a shaft of morning sunlight shone on his face. Sionnan burst into startled laughter. 

“What, may I ask, is suddenly so hilarious?” he murmured, though judging by the slow sweep of his fingers down her back, he wasn't terribly concerned. 

“You're covered in glitter. You look like you've been the victim of a fairy bombing,” she said, leaning her head on his chest as she dissolved into helpless giggles.

He snorted. “I wonder how that happened,” he said with an arch of his eyebrow, before he craned his head to peer over at the alarm clock. “I suppose we ought to get out of bed. You’ll probably want to say goodbye to your roommates, and apparently I need to take a shower lest I be laughed off of campus.”

“I seem to recall you saying something about showering together,” she said, smiling coyly down at him.

His eyes gleamed as a sly smile flickered across his features. “I did say that.”

Even after everything they had already shared, once they were actually standing in the bathroom together, Sionnan felt a moment of hesitation. This was all new territory for her, and now that she was not maddened by desire, self-consciousness came to the forefront. They were lovers in truth, and it seemed to her that the landscape of their relationship had undergone a subtle shift. She did not regret it in the least, but she did feel a niggling terror that she would do something wrong. Plus, she had never been particularly confident in her appearance, and she could feel the weight of his eyes on her like a brand. What if he didn't like what he saw in the clear morning light?

Hieronymus for his part, was equally tentative, at least for a moment. His eyes were shadowed as they traveled over her, and his hand was unsteady when he reached out and took her fingers in his own, bringing them to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles. She looked at him with a question in her eyes. “Sometimes, when I look at you, I feel I must be dreaming,” his said, his voice a low rasp. “Surely, I cannot deserve to behold such loveliness.”

She blushed. “You’re a better man than you believe, Hieronymus,” she said, stepping forward. His arm slipped around her waist as easily as breathing. “I would choose no other. Even if every man in the world lined up at my door.” He drew in a sharp breath at her conscious echo of his words, said in what almost seemed another lifetime. 

“I don't have any words to say how much it means to me, that I am the one you chose. I only hope I am worthy of it,” he said, bowing his head. She stood in her toes and kissed him with a smile.

“I have no doubts about that,” she assured him. “But shouldn't we be getting on with this shower? At this rate, we’ll be lucky to be done before noon.” He nodded his assent, and moved to turn on the water without releasing her from his embrace. When he was satisfied with temperature, he stepped into the stall, drawing her after him, and they held each other as the warm water flowed over them. It was a moment of pure peace for Sionnan, when all her fears and worries fell away. He was just a man, and she was just a woman, and they loved each other. 

Hieronymus leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Shall I wash your hair?” She murmured her assent, even though she knew it was hardly necessary considering her hair was at maximum three inches long. Having his long fingers moving over her scalp was nothing to complain about, and she couldn't help letting out a little sigh of bliss as she clung to his neck. Upon hearing the sound, a corner of his mouth lifted in a pleased smile.

“Now you have to let me wash your hair,” she said when she had rinsed out the lather.

“Can you even reach my head?” he said, his tone playful.

“Yes,” she replied with pursed lips. “You aren't that tall, Hieronymus. If you just lean forward a bit, I won't even have to stretch. Or you can kneel, if that’s easier.”

Humor and mischief glinted in his eyes as he lowered himself to his knees. Now the top of his head was even with her shoulders, and he wrapped his arms around her back, pressing a kiss to her breast bone. She pretended to be unaffected as she massaged the shampoo into his hair, and his eyes closed with pleasure. But when she had finished, and he had rinsed the soap away, he captured her in his arms again. His fingers slid up her water-slicked skin, and her face felt hot as she was abruptly reminded that they were both naked. Her husband’s expression was caught somewhere between reverence and wickedness, and it made her heart stutter in her chest.

“Does it please you, to have me kneel before you?” he asked, his voice rough with intent.

“It certainly doesn’t displease me,” she answered somewhat squeakily. He chuckled low in his throat and kissed her stomach, rivulets of water running over his shoulders.

“Perhaps you’d like for me to worship you like a penitent at the feet of their goddess,” he said, and she could feel his words against her skin. She shivered.

“I hardly think that’s necessary,” she said, but the words came out rather breathless. His smile deepened. It was rare that Sionnan saw this side of him, impulsive and mischievous, and she had never expected him to employ it in order to seduce her, but it was not ineffective. Already her insides felt warm and liquid. 

“I have a specific form of worship in mind,” he said, and his mouth moved lower, his hands slipping almost teasingly down her sides and over her hips until they caressed the insides of her thighs. When she felt his breath between her legs, she gasped, her hand reaching out to the wall for support. “I won’t let you fall,” he murmured, and she might have argued, but then she felt his tongue, and there was barely space in her brain for anything but rapture. 

Much later, they had both sunk down on the tile, luxuriating in the particular bliss that followed intense lovemaking. Sionnan might have marveled that the water pouring over them was still pleasantly warm, but that was one of the benefits of living at a school for magic. She leaned back against his chest, and he kissed her hair before standing with a groan. “My knees are going to be frightfully bruised,” he said wryly, offering his hand to help her stand.

She laughed as he pulled her to her feet. “You can’t blame me, that was all your own idea.” He raised his eyebrows.

“One of my better ones. You didn’t seem to disapprove.”

“No,” she admitted, blushing hotly. “I did not.”

***********************

They emerged from a late breakfast just in time to bid Ellen and Virginia farewell. Or at least, Sionnan met them in the courtyard, among many other groups of students saying their final goodbyes while awaiting their parents, and Hieronymus stood in a corner, watching over the whole spectacle from over the top of a book. It almost felt like going back in time.

“So, how was last night?” Virginia whispered, her smile knowing. Ellen sniffed in disapproval, but she also leaned in to hear better.

Though Sionnan had expected the question, she felt at a temporary loss. On the one hand, it had been a private moment which felt almost too sacred to share, but at the same time, she would have liked not only to gush about her husband but to reassure her friends. “It was… well, it was wonderful. I’m not sure what else to say. I love Hieronymus very much, and I certainly can’t imagine anyone else I would have rather been with.”

“But what was he like?” Ellen chimed in. Sionnan looked at her friend in surprise, and she blushed. “I don’t mean, like a physical description. It’s just, he acts so differently around you. I suppose I wondered if he was always like that.”

“It may be hard to believe, but he’s actually very gentle. As well as funny and passionate. He doesn’t show that side of himself to students, generally, because he considers it his job to scare us into caution. Something terrible happened to him, when he was young,” she said, unwilling to divulge any more, but hoping that would allow her friends to understand some of his character. 

“That does… explain a lot,” Ellen said. “Everyone has been talking about you two dancing together at the ball last night. It’s widely regarded as the most romantic thing anyone has ever seen.”

Virginia snorted. “I think that’s a little much. But even I have to admit, you guys seem to fit together. I never thought I’d see Grabiner looking happy, let alone dancing. I hope you two have fun this summer, reading or whatever.”

“I sincerely doubt we’ll spend the whole summer reading,” Sionnan said slyly, and Ellen choked so hard on her drink that Virginia had to pound on her back. The rest of the Dansons arrived soon after. and after lazily greeting his parents, Donald and Elllen walked a little ways away for their own farewell. Sionnan was tempted to observe, but Virginia insisted on introducing her parents to her other roommate. The elder Dansons seemed to view her with a certain wariness, and she had to wonder what her friend had been telling them. But Ellen returned, and after promising to write each other frequently, she and Virginia got into the Dansons’ car, and they drove away. Summer vacation had truly begun. 

 

*******************

Sionnan spent in the first week of break in mostly solitary relaxation. Hieronymus left after breakfast every morning and came back just before dinner, and still he wouldn’t say what he’d been doing, but he was so obviously pleased with himself that she simply let him get on with it. While he was away, she pursued his library with idle abandon, often taking her book out onto the grounds to read in the summer sunshine. 

Petunia sometimes looked in on her, but the Headmistress was busy with her own affairs, the chief of which was that she was being forced to teach summer school herself, since Hieronymus had asked for leave. “Not that I blame him, duckling,” she said with a smile. “I hope you both enjoy yourselves; he certainly deserves the vacation. It’s only that your husband has so much more patience for this sort of thing. I prefer to deal with students who want to learn. All these troublemakers are, well, they’re troublesome.”

But, almost exactly a week after May Ball, Sionnan was sitting in the orchard with her nose in a book and her back against an apple tree when a long shadow fell across her face. She looked up, squinting, and smiled when she beheld the familiar form of her husband. Because it was summer, he was not wearing his school robes, instead opting for a gray vest and a pale blue dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. To her, it made him look both attractive and distinguished. “To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?”

“If you have time in your busy schedule, I'd like you to accompany me somewhere,” he replied, his mouth twisted in a half-smile as he held a hand out to her.

She let him pull her to her feet, excitement fluttering in her stomach. “Does this mean you’re finally going to divulge the secret project you’ve been working so diligently on?”

“Perhaps,” he said, arching his eyebrows. “But first, we’ll have to go to our bedroom.” She wasn't sure what to expect when they arrived there, but none of her guesses involved a tall object wrapped in a large cloth. Hieronymus smiled at her confusion and removed the covering.

“A mirror?” she said, not feeling particularly enlightened. He pressed his hand to the glass and it lit up from within.

“Not just a mirror. It is a doorway that is keyed only to you and I,” he said. She couldn't help but smile at that. When she had been informed, at the age of thirteen, that she was a witch, this was the sort of magic she had imagined doing. For the most part, she’d been disappointed, but now, she beheld a real magic mirror, and best of all, it was something that was only for the two of them.

“Where does it lead?” she asked, and he held out his hand again, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Come and see,” he said, and the sound of his voice made her heart skip a beat. She took his hand, and they stepped through the glass like a curtain.

*******************

They emerged in a forest, which, at first glance, did not appear any more magical than any forest she'd been in before. The May sunshine shone green-gold through the leaves, and the air smelled of moss and rain. There was a wide gravel path to the right, and it was here that Hieronymus guided her. “Where are we?” she asked, finding no landmarks to give her clues. 

“We’re still in Vermont,” he said. “This isn't actually that far from Iris by a straight path, though it would be rather difficult to drive..” She pursed her lips, feeling he was being purposefully obtuse.

“But why, exactly, are we here? As here doesn't seem to be anywhere in particular.” They came over a rise and around a thick stand of birches, and she finally saw it, a narrow Victorian painted gray-green so that it barely stood out from the forest beyond, with a small yard shaded by weeping willows.

“Because, Mrs. Grabiner,” he said, with thinly disguised glee. “This is where we live.”

“Oh,” she said faintly, her hand over her heart, temporarily bereft of more eloquent words to express her astonishment. “This is our house?”

“It is,” he agreed. “It isn't quite finished, as it was nearly falling down when I found it, but it is livable now. You can help me with everything that's left to do.” He slipped his arm around her waist, which helped to awaken her from her stupor. “I take it you were surprised?”

She laughed. “Very. Exactly as you intended, I’m sure,” she said, embracing him with fervor. “You really are the most wonderful of husbands.”

“I'm glad you approve,” he said, kissing her hair. “Would you like to see inside?”

“Yes, of course.”  
*************************

He knew it was worth it when he saw the expression on Sionnan’s face, the stunned disbelief slowly being replaced by dawning joy and excitement. Every moment of aggravation, every sore muscle and headache was insignificant in the face of her happiness. He led her by the hand through their new house, and their footsteps echoed on the wooden floors. Even though he had arranged everything with her in mind, taking inspiration from the times when she had allowed him to peer into her dreams, it was still gratifying to see her exclaim over each new thing. The fireplaces, and the bookshelves in the study and the window seat all delighted her, as he had hoped.

There wasn’t much in the way of furniture yet, but there was one room that was complete, which he saved until last, guiding her up the spiraling metal stairs to the top of the turret. It was sunny in here, and the wind made the sheer curtains over the tall windows billow in a whimsical fashion. A four-poster bed stood in the center of the room, the gray-blue coverlet blanketed with honeysuckle and forget-me-not, and Sionnan gasped when she saw it, putting a hand to her mouth. He couldn't suppress his smile, both relieved and satisfied by her reaction. After she’d had a moment to take it all in, she turned and threw her arms around him, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

“You're such a romantic, Hieronymus,” she said, laughing even as she stroked his cheek fondly. 

“Only for you,” he said, scooping her into his arms. She gave a little shriek of surprise which he interrupted by kissing her. Her mouth tasted faintly of apple. “I would suspect you of putting some sort of devious enchantment on me, but as it seems to be mutual, I find myself unable to complain.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck eagerly, and he carried her to the bed. “I feel like a bride on her wedding night,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Then I hope it will make up for our actual wedding night, which was unsatisfactory for everyone. I should have told you how I felt then,” he replied, looking down into her eyes. He had hurt her so many times, out of a misguided attempt to protect the both of them from disaster. In retrospect, it had only served to make them miserable while only slightly delaying the inevitable.

“What happened before doesn't matter to me, so long as we’re together now.” She kissed him, and they fell into the bed.

Later they sat together amongst the remains of the dinner he'd had prepared for them, moonlight painting silver stripes across the rumpled sheets as the candles guttered in the breeze. Sionnan leaned against his chest, peering up at him with a contented smile. “Will we really live here all summer?”

He didn't hesitate to smile back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I suspect we may want to bring some things here before we move in full time. There is running water and I've managed to enchant the icebox, but you'll note we have neither clothes nor food.”

“I suppose that is somewhat important," she agreed. "Can you cook, Hieronymus?” 

He blinked at the unexpected question and raised his eyebrows. “Not a bit,” he admitted, chuckling. “Can you? I never thought about it.”

“Of course you wouldn't,” she said laughing from real mirth and love rather than derision. “As it happens, I can cook, though I might need to look up some new recipes. I wonder if there’s anything in the school library? It is much more difficult to learn new things without the benefit of computers.”

“It will be your turn to have the pleasure of teaching me something new,” he said, and that brought another smile to her lips.

“I guess we’ll have to live on campus during the school year, won’t we,” she said thoughtfully. “Even after I graduate, you’ll still have to work.”

“That’s true. It’s part of my contract to live on campus. I might have to think about getting a different job. But we have plenty of time. I doubt you’ve given any thought to what you want to do after school yet.” He did not mean this as an indictment on her, but an observation, and she seemed to take it as such. She pursed her lips, leaning her chin into her hand like a much more beautiful version of Rodin's famous work.

“No. Not really. I don’t even know what my options are. As far as I know, all wizards grow up to be teachers,” she said, flashing him a grin. Hieronymus snorted. 

“Unfortunately, quite a lot of us, especially in Europe, grow up to be like my father, the idle rich, spending all their time researching personal projects and being cared for by servants. But there are magical healers. That was what Petunia trained for originally. The magical world also has law enforcement and lawyers, there are those who create magical objects, as well as librarians, researchers, and explorers. You’re clever enough to do whatever you set your mind to, I’m sure.”

“Flatterer,” she remarked in a playful tone. “And what did you want to do, when you were young?”

He grimaced. “I was a remarkably stupid teenager. I wanted to be a professional duelist who spent my free time racing broomsticks.”

“I heard you were talented,” she replied, looking up into his face with her usual gentle compassion. “I don’t think it’s stupid to want to do something you’re good at.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, my love, but the fact remains that only the foolish strive to make a career out of dueling. All of the duelists I have met who lived past the age off thirty were missing a hand, or an eye, or some other part of their body that I would prefer to keep, so in this case, I am glad that fate conspired to ruin my childhood dreams.”

“I don’t know,” she teased, her smile full of mischief. “Some women find scarred men attractive.” At this he laughed.

“Are you one of those women? I’m afraid I’m not interested in attracting anyone else, and if I was currently touring Europe with my broomstick and dashing eyepatch, I doubt we would ever have met.”

Her faced turned pensive at this suggestion, thoughtful, but not unhappy. “Do you think that’s true? I can hardly imagine how my life might have gone otherwise. I’d like to think I would have found you anyway,” she said, turning to face him. 

“It’s just like you to be concerned about the outcome of our relationship in a hypothetical universe,” he said with a fond chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “But wizards have been debating this question for centuries. Due to the nature of space-time, there is some merit to the argument that anyone who has succeeded with a consensual soul bond such as ours would always have met in order to complete the soul bond. Because the soul, they reason, is infinite, and exists in all possible universes at once, a bond between two souls must become a fixed point in the universe around which the rest of reality revolves. Echoes of the event pass into alternate universes, reverberating down the time-stream. There is a theory that you can actually measure how many iterations you are from your bond’s prime universe by calculating how much earlier in time the universe began to arrange itself for the bond to occur. The problem is that, even if true, it’s too subjective to measure unless you can prove the universal starting positions of all the variables. Which is, of course, much too vast of a calculation to be practical.”

“So, according to this theory, it is possible that I ran into you in the courtyard on my first day at the Academy because fate was arranging our lives to lead to a soul bond we had in parallel universe?”

“That’s correct,” he said, and now that he considered it, Hieronymus couldn’t help but wonder how much of his life had been simply leading to this moment. Some people might have been bothered by the thought that they had so little control over their actions, but he found it comforting. Perhaps even his worst mistakes had been fated. He still regretted them, but if they had a purpose, it was somewhat less depressing. “Of course, that might be simple chance. For all we know, this is our prime universe. Or, alternatively, fate might have been arranging things for far longer. Was it chance that you were assigned to Iris Academy when your magic bloomed into being? Perhaps even ten years ago, when Petunia saved me from myself and brought me to the school to teach, fate was conspiring to bring us together. It’s difficult to know.”

“Surely you have some opinion?” she inquired, raising her eyebrow. Sionnan, he had noticed, possessed a remarkable intuition for ferreting out information, especially with him, which he supposed was fitting. It had used to irritate him, when he was determined to keep his private thoughts hidden from her, but now he took her probing as a cue that it was time for something to be revealed.

“I do,” he admitted. “If we are to accept the theory of the infinite soul, then I do not believe this is the first universe that we have been together.” He leaned back onto the headboard, gathering her into his lap. “You remember when I came to your house on the solstice?”

“I’ll never forget that as long as I live,” she answered with a wistful smile. “Everything was horrible, and then you came like an avenging angel. If I hadn’t already been infatuated with you, I certainly was after that.”

He snorted at the ridiculous description of himself, but he was also somewhat moved, and he kissed the top of her head before continuing. “I don’t know what Petunia told you, but I came there of my own free will, without her knowledge. I’d had a dream that you needed help, and it proved to be true. I’d never had a prescient dream before, nor since. It would make more sense if it was some sort of echo of our bond.”

“Petunia was quite evasive about why you decided to come after me, though she did say you’d come on your own. She was trying to reassure me that I wasn’t completely out of my mind to be in love with you,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad you told me. But you brought up something earlier that’s been bothering me. Can you fail a soul bond? What happens then?”

“You can fail,” he admitted. “For several reasons, the most likely one being that the participants are not fully committed, and therefore do not possess the emotions necessary to support the bond as it’s created. It’s actually a fairly dangerous ritual, which is one of the reasons why soul bonding is so rare. The best case scenario is that nothing happens. Very rarely, both participants may die,” he said, sighing. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you at the time, but I didn’t want to frighten you. I feared we could not survive another battle, and I judged, selfishly perhaps, that I would rather us be dead together than run the risk of having to live without you.”

She reached up and caressed his face, her fingers impossibly soft and gentle against his skin. “I’m not angry with you Hieronymus. I knew we were in terrible danger, either way, and obviously, I don’t regret being with you.”

“You are, as usual, far too lenient with me. I will never be able to love you enough to repay your extraordinary patience.” 

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she replied, twirling a lock of his hair playfully in her fingers. “In any case, it seems we have plenty to keep us occupied for the summer. I imagine it will take at least a week just to bring all your books here.”

“Madame, you wound me,” he said, putting his hand over his heart in a dramatic fashion. “What you’ve seen is only half of my books, and even so, I will have them all moved in a day or less. But you are correct in assuming that we’ll be busy. Besides all the moving we have yet to do, there is one more place I would like to take you soon.”

“Oh really,” she said, her eyes already sparkling with excitement. “Where are we going?”

“I’d like to take you on a more pleasant trip to the Otherworld, now that it should be completely safe. The Headmistress suggested that I return to my mother’s Court in order to find more information on the creature that showed up during your final exam, and I’m sure she’ll be delighted to meet you.”

“Who is your mother, anyway? You never said.” He flushed with the realization that he’d forgotten such a detail, but he’d spent so much of his life hiding it that it had ceased to be an important fact in his mind.

“She… well. Queen Aine of the Court of Blossoms, that’s my mother,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Sionnan sat bolt upright, nearly bashing his nose in.

“You can't be serious?!” she exclaimed, slapping his chest. He hardly blamed her, and so he made no attempt to fend her off. 

“Yes, unfortunately, I am. As Petunia is so fond of reminding me, I am the only one of her mortal children she’s acknowledged in centuries, which is an uncomfortable position to be in. I stopped coming to the Otherworld after what happened to Violet, as you know, but not having to attend Court was a pleasant side effect. I am sorry to spring this upon you so suddenly, but in truth, I forgot I hadn’t told you before.”

She pursed her lips. “Only you would forget something like that, you dreadful man. But I’m not upset about that, exactly. It’s just that it’s nerve-racking enough, meeting one’s inlaws, and now I find out she’s an immortal Queen of the Fae. I can’t help but feel she’s going to find me terribly disappointing.”

“My love, if she doesn’t find me disappointing, she’s bound to love you. She might even give you a medal for having the wherewithal to put up with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for waiting patiently. I've got a lot on my plate right now, writing projects wise, which is great, because I'm being paid, but you know, not a lot of time for fun stuff. I might write a little drabble later to continue the shower scene, but it seemed rather gratuitous after the previous chapter. Anyway, hope you all like it, and special thanks to everyone who leaves kudos and comments. I love comments.


	14. The Face of the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sionnan and Hieronymus travel to the Court of Blossoms. Petunia decides to so some research. After meeting Queen Aine, they face an unexpected adversary. 
> 
> (warning for mention of suicide)

A little over a week after Hieronymus first brought her to the house, Sionnan found herself in the dungeons of Iris, watching her husband draw the most elaborate magical schematic she'd ever seen. This was the spell for summoning the Spiral Gate, or one of them, anyway. There were many ways to open the portal to the Otherworld, but this was the most stable and least draining method from the mortal side, and it required a lot of preparation. She had helped with what she could, but Hieronymus insisted on drawing the schemata himself. For once she saw no reason to argue. One mistake with a planar gate might leave them stuck in the void between dimensions, or stuck only halfway, which sounded worse. It was a spell far beyond the ability of a freshman witch or wizard. Even Hieronymus, who was never anything but confident and precise, at least when it came to magic, called the Headmistress in to check for mistakes. 

“Everything looks to be in order,” she said, pacing around the edge of the circle, a swirling network of lines and symbols chalked in white and blue and red, peering closely at them while her hand held her spectacles back from sliding down her nose. “Though I admit I’m a little befuddled as to what you’re using for the focus of the spell. It’s not a notation I’ve seen before.”

“My own blood, of course,” he replied. “No reason to go hunting down unicorn hair or dragons’ scales when I already possess the perfect material component. Also, it helps to lend precision to the location parameter since I intend to return to the Court of my birth.”

“I’d forgotten you were actually born in the Otherworld,” Petunia said, tapping her chin. “Your spellwork is immaculate as always, Hieronymus. Will you be leaving immediately?”

“I believe everything is prepared,” he said, giving Sionnan a quick sideways glance. She nodded. There was no point in bringing a bunch of things to the Otherworld. Nearly everything there, food, clothing, and shelter, was created by magic, and furthermore, as guest in the Court of Blossoms, it would be a terrible insult to bring their own things. So their luggage was just one small bag each, with personal items like books and journals. 

“Well, then there's nothing left for me to do but to wish you farewell. And remind you to be careful. There’s plenty of danger to be found even in your mother’s Court.”

“I'm well aware of the risks, Petunia,” he said dryly. “Rest assured I will allow no harm to come to Sionnan.” She elbowed him in the ribs and he sighed. “Or myself, so as to not incur her wrath.”

Potsdam grinned widely. “Off you go then.” Shaking his head, Hieronymus picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, and Sionnan did the same. He pulled a velvet-wrapped object from his pocket, a small silvered dagger, and Sionnan looked away as he pressed it into his thumb. As soon as a drop of his blood touched the lines of chalk on the ground, they burst to life, glowing with power. A blackness grew in the center, edged with shimmering prismatic color, not just darkness but an utter absence of light and life. It had a sort of horrible beauty to it, Sionnan thought.

Her husband took her hand, and she laced her fingers through his, both of them gripping tightly. “Although in principle the portal should still operate whether you are touching me or not, I would prefer that you hold on to me.”

“Always,” she replied, looking up to meet his eyes. His cheeks flushed, but he squeezed her hand. They stepped forward together, into the void, and Sionnan’s heart hammered as darkness swallowed them.

The Headmistress stood watch until the portal finally winked in on itself, and she picked up a broom to dust the lines away. One couldn’t be too careful in these days, especially considering the way Hieronymus Grabiner drew trouble like iron filings to a magnet. Petunia Potsdam was older than she looked, and she remembered the talk in the magical community, starting from the day of his birth. Ill-omened, people said, and though it was common for wizards to marry creatures of the Other, some people thought that wedding a powerful magical lineage like the Grabiners to a Queen of the fae was dangerous. A level of hubris that invited disaster. The tragedy that had befallen Violet in the Otherworld was, they said, inevitable. 

Petunia had never liked such talk, condemning a child who'd done nothing but have the misfortune of having famous parents. It was no wonder he’d walked under a dark cloud his entire life; when the world believed you to be unlucky, ill luck was sure to befall you. It had been chance that had brought her to the hospital the day that they brought him in, barely alive after slitting his wrists in a bathtub. He was only eighteen, brilliant but reckless and volatile. She had visited him, once he was stable, the only person to bother, and saw the potential for something more than either he or his father had planned. So she brought him to America and gave him a teaching position. People had called her crazy, but she had never regretted it. 

Now it seemed that his destiny would come calling after all. Petunia did not think it was necessarily an evil fate, but the omens all pointed to a grim choice or choices awaiting, somewhere in the future. Though she believed Hieronymus to be a fundamentally good person, she would not have called him a strong person. Not until recently. He had changed; his wife had changed him, more than even Potsdam had believed possible in such a short time. On the face of it, Sionnan was just a normal sixteen year old girl, clever, obviously, but not astonishingly so. Except that healing she had done on the day of the final exam should have been impossible for someone of her skill level. Certainly, she shouldn’t have been able to remain standing, and then to flawlessly assist her husband with a spell like **Incandescent Abjuration** Hieronymus was not a healer; he had only known, with the instinct born of their bond, that she would be able to do it, and so they had. 

But ever since then, Petunia Potsdam had been forced to consider a question. Was Sionnan Grabiner just a normal girl? With both of them gone to the Otherworld, it was the perfect time to do some discreet research. In the conflict to come, it was imperative that they utilize every asset.

*************************

It was a moment that lasted an eternity. The universe howled in her ears in an explosion of color and light, and she felt herself dissolving into nothingness, only to be rebuilt atom by atom. It would have been terrifying except that, through everything, she could feel the grip of his hand on hers, even when she wasn’t sure she had a hand to hold. Her heartbeat was still thundering in her ears, but she could hear another, beating in tandem, and she knew that it was his. _I am here. We are together,_ said his voice in her head. Then they landed hard, as if falling from a height. She couldn’t open her eyes, the ground seemed to lurch under her, but she felt Hieronymus gather her into his lap. The combination of his warmth and the familiar scent of cedar and ink steadied her.

“We’ve arrived safely. Take a few deep breaths. Planar travel is always disorienting,” he murmured in her ear as he stroked her hair in a soothing manner.

“You don’t seem to be any worse for the wear,” she grumbled, pushing herself up to sitting.

“I’ve made this trip a number of times, though except from my last, less than ideal, sojourn with you, it has been many years. I’m used to it,” he said, but she was no longer paying attention, as she was too busy staring at the scenery. The first time they had been in the Otherworld, the landscape had been a little strange, but not to an alarming degree; it was an unclaimed territory, the magical equivalent of a fallow field. The Court of Blossoms, by contrast, was a garden that had been tended for millennia. In a word, it was breathtaking.

Sionnan had a sense that they were sitting on the rim of a great bowl, and the land sloped away from them in a swath of color. The air rang with birdsong and the sound of falling water, and petals fell from the sky, swirling on the wind, just as if they had been transported to a poignant scene from a Japanese cartoon. The ground bloomed with flowers of every color, all a shade too bright, and the air was warm and fragrant with the scent of the blossoms. Her senses felt almost assaulted by beauty. In the center of all this loveliness, set in the middle of a crystal clear lake, was a castle that might have been pulled straight from a Disney movie, built of white, pink, and blue stones with banners flapping in the breeze. A rainbow curved through the sky, though there was nary a cloud to be seen. “Is it always like this?” she asked, breathless with wonder.

“Yes, and no. It is always spring here; that is why it is the Court of Blossoms, but I suspect that the Queen has picked imagery she thinks will appeal to you specifically, as she knows we are coming to visit.” His voice carried a familiar note of disapproval.

“You don’t like it?” He looked down at her and smiled.

“Putting myself in danger of sounding treasonous, I have a personal preference for autumn, and besides, this all a little too… overwrought storybook idealism for my tastes. However, I am glad you like it.”

“He would prefer a thunderstorm every day, I’m afraid,” said a new voice, rich with humor. A woman stood beside them, tall and proud, her hair the color of ripe strawberries. It was the eyes, as golden as the crown upon her head, that gave away her identity. Sionnan froze, unsure how to act.

“Hello, Mother,” Hieronymus said, getting to his feet and pulling her with him. “This is much less fanfare than I expected.”

Queen Aine smiled, gentle, but with a hint of mischief. “I could hardly allow my prodigal son and his new wife be presented to the Court looking like ordinary mortals, now could I? Rest assured, there will be plenty of festivities later.”

“Lovely,” he replied, with no attempt to conceal his true feelings. “Sionnan, as you may have surmised, this is my mother, Queen Aine, the esteemed sovereign of the Court of Blossoms, along with several other increasingly ridiculous titles. Mother, this is Sionnan, my exceedingly tolerant wife.” He moved her in front of him but did not take his hands from her shoulders, as if he was afraid she might be snatched away.

“She would have to be, to put up with you,” Aine said with a flash of white teeth. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sionnan. I wish I could say Hieronymus had told me all about you, but of course, he never bothers to tell anyone anything unless it suits him.”

Though her knees had been shaking with nervousness, Sionnan found the Queen’s casual and friendly demeanor reassuring. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty. Considering I only found out about you last week, I have some idea what you're talking about.”

“My goodness, Hieronymus. Are you so ashamed of your own mother?” Aine asked, her eyes twinkling with humor.

“Of course not,” he replied tersely, his scowl deepening. “But I have had many other things to think about, including several attempts on our lives. If you two are quite through badmouthing me…”

“Oh, I should think we have plenty more to discuss,” she said, smiling again. “I intend to take your wife to tea, and to see about getting her some new clothes. I have things prepared for you, up at the cottage. I trust you have no objections to making your home there for the duration of your stay?”

“I do not,” he agreed, his shoulders slumping with something like relief. He looked down at Sionnan, concern furrowing his brow. “Will you be all right in your own?”

“I'll keep her safe, Hieronymus. I have no intention of throwing her to the wolves,” Aine said in a reassuring tone.

“I’ll be fine,” Sionnan said, meeting his eyes and reaching back to put her hand on his cheek. _I think your mother can be trusted, at the very least._ she added, speaking straight into his mind. They had been practicing how they might leave their mental shields open only to each other while still protecting them from others. In the Otherworld, it would give them an advantage.

 _You can trust Aine, but no one else,_ he agreed. _If something feels wrong to you, do not hesitate to tell me. I would rather be over cautious than sorry later._ She nodded and he kissed her forehead. “Well, then, I suppose I'll leave you ladies to it.” 

“We’ll be in the water garden,” Aine said. “The guards all know to let you pass.” He nodded and turned away, walking down the hill at a swift pace. When he was out of earshot, Aine smiled. “He gave in more quickly than I expected. You really have changed him.”

Sionnan flushed. “I don't know that I’ve done anything special. Hieronymus just needed someone to trust him, and that allowed him to trust in return.”

“Perhaps,” Aine said, clearly unconvinced. “But let us go down to the palace. I want to hear the whole story from you, and in return, I will provide lunch. And clothes, of course. For your debut at Court, we must ensure that you truly shine.” 

****************************

The water garden proved to be a walled off area on the palace grounds where the lake was allowed to flow inside to make a shallow pond. Brightly colored fish swam among lily pads adorned with vibrant flowers. But the chief wonder of the garden, Sionnan saw once she sat down at the crystal tea table, was that the water was enchanted. It was like those public fountains they had in nicer parks, only better. Jets of water swirled and danced around them, changing colors, jumping and colliding with each other, but not a drop of water fell on them.

Meanwhile, Queen Aine took a seat across from her, and at a clap of her hands, the table filled with delicate porcelain dishes covered in pastries and pretty little sandwiches. Sionnan was starving. They hadn't eaten breakfast because planar travel could be nauseating, and she'd never been the type to be shy about eating. Even her intimidating mother in law wasn't going to change that. Aine only smiled, picking up her own teacup.

“My son, as you may have surmised, has told me very little. You are a student at the school where he is a teacher? I only ask because, though such a thing would not be strange in the Otherworld, I understand it is generally frowned upon by mortals.”

Sionnan flushed. “You aren't wrong. I was interested in him, almost from the first, but he was primarily annoyed by me, at least until he rescued me from an unpleasant home situation over winter break. Still, he only married me to save me from his manus. If that hadn't happened, I suspect he would have continued to ignore me.”

Aine raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps until you graduated. But if I know my son, if he hadn't, in some part of his mind, wanted to be married to you, he would have found another way. And now you are soul bound. Was that another accident?”

“Sort of,” Sionnan answered with a quiet laugh. “I got pulled into the Spiral Gate by someone I thought was my friend and Hieronymus came in after me. He proposed the ritual as a way to conceal me from the more unpleasant denizens of the Otherworld. But by then, I knew how he really felt.”

“I can see that he is happy with you, which is something I feared he would not allow himself to have, after what happened to his first love.” Sionnan nodded. Though she couldn't deny being curious about what exactly had happened to Violet, since it had been so important in shaping the man that he was, she had decided long ago to wait until he was ready to tell her himself. Occasionally, she was concerned that it would take their entire lives, but then, she knew she had eternity. “Now, about clothing. Tell me what it is you like to wear,” Aine said imperiously. “I do not hold with the strange human maxim that beauty must be painful, for there is nothing quite so attractive as self-confidence, and that begins with comfort.”

Sionnan raised her eyebrows. It was certainly a philosophy she'd never heard before, and she found it deeply appealing. An image came to her mind of Hieronymus, in those awful shapeless brown robes he wore to school every day, and how handsome she still found him, especially when he was demonstrating a particularly difficult bit of magic. It was not about his clothes, but his _presence_. “I'm not exactly… well-versed in fashion,” she admitted, “But I'm not very comfortable with skirts and dresses.”

“A good enough place to start,” Aine said. “Now, let us discuss color and fabric…”

******************************  
An hour later, a familiar voice startled her out of an interesting discussion. “It seems my wife has been replaced by a rather charming 16th century dandy,” he said, and Sionnan turned to grin at her husband, who was himself wearing a beautiful forest green coat and a brocade vest the color of mahogany. He'd removed his glamour, and Sionnan was somewhat startled by it; she'd forgotten how young he looked underneath. For the first time she wondered, how long would he live?

“Not everyone shares your affection for Victorian frock coats, Hieronymus,” Queen Aine said easily.

“I thought this was more 18th century France, minus the lace,” he replied, smiling down on his wife. “I wasn't complaining, however. As I said, you look charming. The color suits you.” Sionnan smiled, her moment of anxiety at least temporarily dislodged. As strange as it felt to put on, she really did love the outfit, which consisted of a blouse of spring green silk, its wide sleeves slashed in teal green and tied with ribbons of the same color. Accompanying this was a teal leather jerkin and kidskin pants, accented with a cream leather belt and matching boots. It was certainly reminiscent of spring, and extremely comfortable. 

“Thank you very much,” she said, standing on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Your mother and I were just talking about music. You never did tell me what instrument you played.”

He flushed, his hand sliding over her shoulder as he took a seat beside her. “I apologize, but we have had many other things to contend with. I assume my mother informed you that I play the flute.”

“Indeed,” Queen Aine said with a somewhat mischievous grin. “Did you know your wife plays the violin?” 

“Well, not since I left home,” Sionnan amended. “My parents wouldn’t let me bring my violin to Iris, since it was so expensive, and then when I went back, I found out they’d sold it.” Hieronymus scowled, tapping his fingers on the table. There were many wrongs he would’ve liked to punish her stepfather for, and now he would certainly never have the chance. There was hardly a point to add to this list of grievances, which only made it more irksome.

“You two really ought to play a duet,” Aine said, “If you're both not too out of practice.”

He grimaced at the thought. “Although the Court wouldn't doubt be amused by our musical abilities, this is, you'll recall, not as social visit. A monster from the Court of Ice tried to kill me last month, and in March, someone in the Otherworld opened the Spiral Gate into the gym of Iris Academy, where Sionnan and I just so happened to be. We need information. Especially anything that might explain why a Court of the Fae might ally with an upstart Duke of Hel.”

Aine’s expression was both stunned and concerned. Though Sionnan was aware that the fae were masters of deception, she did not think this reaction was fake. “That is troubling news,” the Queen said. “I'm sorry to say that I've heard nothing from that Court since their King was defeated. I'll send agents to look into it at once. But tell me, why would you think Hel was involved at all?”

“It’s a long story,” Hieronymus answered, “But I suppose there's no time like the present.”

*******************************

Two weeks later, Sionnan stood in a curtained hallway at her husband’s side, taking deep, steadying breaths. _Everything is going to be fine,_ he said into her mind. _I would never let anything happen to you._ She decided now was not the time to mention that the last time they'd been in a serious battle, he was the one who’d nearly died.

 _I'm not even sure whether to hope for success or failure at this point,_ she replied, and he squeezed her hand. 

_If the Court of Ice is interested in us, there could be no better opportunity. Either way, we’ll go home at the end of week. There's nothing left to discover here that others cannot do for us, and the longer we remain, the more dangerous it feels._

Before she could reply, a voice boomed through the hallway, loud enough to make her flinch. “Presenting Lord Hieronymus Grabiner, son of Queen Aine, and his wife, Lady Sionnan Grabiner.” They stepped through the curtain, walking down a living carpet of golden flowers to the dais where Queen Aine was waiting. The nobility of the Court of Blossoms stood on all sides, staring and whispering. Some of them were like their Queen, fashioned as beautiful people or elves, but others were more alien, horned, furred, scaled or clawed, everything from walking trees to beings made of water and giant, sentient insects.

 _When did we get promoted to the peerage?_ Sionnan asked as they slowly approached the dais.

 _You may recall that my father is the Viscount Montague. We are members of the peerage, whether we like it or not. And the only reason I am not titled a Prince of this Court is because I specifically begged Mother not to do such a thing to me._ There was no tinge of humor to this pronouncement, only weary resignation. Nine steps from the dais, they stopped and bowed to the Queen. Not too low, as they were esteemed guests, but enough to show their fealty and respect for Aine.

“Rise, my children, and take your place at my side,” she said, and they stepped up on the dais and stood at her right hand. This might have been problematic if she'd had other children living, but as it happened, her only fully fae child had died in battle sometime in the 12th century, and Hieronymus had been the first mortal child she'd borne in over a hundred years. There were quite a few cousins, and even an aunt, who might have contested his place in the Court were it to be a permanent thing, but on this one occasion, this was granted as his due. 

Of course, this was only the first part of the day. While they stood at her side and watched, the Queen received a few urgent petitioners, and then the wedding gifts began to arrive. Some of them were fairly normal, beautiful hand-sewn quilts and dishes of gold and porcelain, while others were slightly alarming, Sionnan didn't react with quite the same level of dread to the magical cradle as her husband did, but she did feel it was a bit presumptuous. There were a few presents that were actually dangerous, but this seemed to be more out of ignorance than malice. She was a bit sad about the loss of the dragon egg, but apparently they were illegal in the mortal world. 

Then came the feast. If she'd thought her previous meals in the Otherworld to be flavorful and extravagant, she realized now how tame they had been by fae standards. There was just so much food, of varieties she could not even describe, and by the seventh course, not only was she stuffed, but the crowd was beginning to wear on her. She blinked, wincing away from the bright light as someone presented her with a small cup of something that appeared to be on fire. “Am I supposed to put it out?” she whispered to Hieronymus.

“It’s illusory fire,” he assured her, holding his hand in the flames for several seconds by way of demonstration. “My understanding is that it used to be served with real flames, as sort of a test of daring, until some drunk lord burned half his hair off.” She grinned at the image that presented. “If I remember correctly, it's actually some sort of dessert.” The image of fire remained as she transferred the pudding-like substance to her spoon. It tasted like chocolate and strawberries, pleasantly warm in her mouth. Hieronymus smiled at her visible enjoyment, but she could see the weariness around his eyes.

 _Should we go?_ she asked, taking his hand. His thumb caressed her knuckles.

 _As the guests of honor, I'm afraid we aren't allowed to leave early. I keep having to remind myself that this isn't just a pointless social occasion, but that only makes it more exhausting._ She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment, the only comfort she felt she could offer. The lower tables were beginning to be cleared away, but a group of musicians was setting up in the corner. Sionnan fervently hoped they wouldn't have to dance, and then the sound of a bell echoed through the hall. Hieronymus sat straight up like he'd suffered an electric shock.

Queen Aine conversed with the toothy fae creature who'd appeared at her side, and then turned to them with a grim smile. “They're attacking in force, though not nearly enough to hope for victory. Bold of them.”

Hieronymus pursed his lips. “They don't mean to fight seriously. I suppose they're making a statement.”

“And what will you do?” Aine asked. “I do not require your assistance, but perhaps you could learn something of value while making a statement of your own.” He caught Sionnan’s eyes, and she nodded.

“We will fight,” he said. “It’s time we had some answers.” He pulled Sionnan to her feet, and slipped out of his jacket.

”It feels wrong to let you go to battle without arms and armor,” the Queen said, frowning, “But then, you would look like any other soldiers under my command.”

“Which would defeat the entire point,” Hieronymus finished. “We’ll be all right. After all, the idea isn't truly to do combat, but to be seen.”

“Even so, I will give you some protection.” She rose from her seat and touched them each on the center of the forehead. Sionnan felt the magic shimmer over her, warm and powerful. It felt a bit like her husband’s magic, but deeper, less sharp.

“Thank you, Queen Aine,” she said, bowing her head, and the Queen smiled in return.

“Let’s hurry to the battlements,” Hieronymus said, taking Sionnan’s hand. “I have an idea.” They ran down a corridor, and up the stairs. She could hear shouting and distant explosions as they passed by windows, and both of them were panting by the time they finally reached the upper archway. From the top of the wall, they could see all the way to the edge of the little valley that housed the palace. This was not the whole Court, Sionnan had learned, but just a small domain reserved for visitors and official Court functions. Judging by the cluster of troops and smoke, all of the enemy forces were concentrated on the main road. “It’s just as they said. That’s barely a large enough force to take the outermost gate. Either this is ridiculous pretense, or it’s intended as a distraction to conceal a different motive.”

“So which do you think is more likely?” Sionnan said, wondering how he could deduce so much from a glance at the chaos below. 

He frowned. “I hardly think it matters, for our part. If it’s a distraction, then it isn’t aimed at us, and Mother will have plans in place. The best we can do is end this battle quickly, and the appearance of combatants they didn’t expect may give them pause. If, as we initially suspected, this is meant to give you and I a message, then showing that we are not afraid is our best response. And maybe we can get a better clue as to who is behind this.”

“And you have a plan?” He smiled grimly and drew her against his body.

“I do. For now, just hold on to me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her in a tight embrace. A shudder moved through him, of a magical rather than physical nature, and she felt a blast of heat. Fiery wings had erupted from his back, just like they had during the confrontation with Damien. They flapped once with a great gust of hot wind and then again, and their bodies lifted off the ground. Sionnan barely managed to stifle the shout of terrified realization as he crouched on top of the parapet. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, and she could see fire kindled behind his eyes. “I would never let you fall.” They soared from the battlements. She buried her face in his neck as the wind whipped past them.

 _Take a deep breath. We are nearly there. Are you ready to cast Volcanic Gale with me?_ She gave her silent assent. Linked spells required concentration, and she blew her breath out in a measured sigh, feeling his heart beating against her chest. In her mind, his hand reached for hers, and she took it. They began the incantation in harmony, their voices melding together, and the magic spun out and twined itself around them in ethereal chains of power. It was not as simple as sharing their mana, though they had found that seemed to be a natural side effect of the soul bond. In practice, they each performed half the spell, in perfect synchronization, and in this case, Sionnan guided the element of air, and Hieronymus guided the fire, and as he was the one looking at the target, he unleashed the completed spell. She could hear the shouts of pain and alarm as the enemy realized they were being assaulted from above.

“It’s them!” someone called, and the words were repeated more than once as they spiraled lows, though it was hard to know from whose side the cries originated.

“It seems we’re expected,” Hieronymus growled. “We’ll be on the ground in a moment, so be ready.” As he spoke the words, she felt a flash of heat as he cast another spell, the incantation a murmur under his breath. Now she was more anxious to see what was going on than afraid of the height, but she didn’t dare move lest she throw him off balance. Finally, she felt the soft thump of their landing. He staggered, but recovered himself and set her on her feet. They stood on the edge of a smoke-filled crater, the remnant of his last spell, but there was nothing to be seen ahead, though behind them stood the majority of Aine’s forces. Had they truly won?

The smoke parted, revealing at least four of the icy behemoths of the sort that had attacked the school the month before, and surrounding them were all sorts of creatures Sionnan had no name for, each a twisted, freezing construction of ice, snow, and rock. She readied a spell, but Hieronymus gripped her hand. “Wait a moment,” he said. Something was happening, she realized; the ranks of the enemy were parting, and a small figure moved between them, a woman. There was something wrong with her; her brown skin was waxy and gray, and her movement was jerking, unnatural. As she came closer, Sionnan could see that her body was covered in seams, like some sort of horror movie monster.

“Hello, Hieronymus,” she said, her voice a chill rasp. “It seems you’ve moved on at last.” Sionnan felt him go stiff with shock. She didn’t need to hear his hoarse whisper to know who it was.

“Violet… It can’t be.” The fiery light faded from his eyes, and the wings disappeared. He crumpled to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being patient and continuing to read. And especially for commenting! After all those nice mellow chapters, we're in for some intense stuff. If you like my writing, please check out my new Tumblr just for my work, kitswritingdesk


	15. Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hieronymus finally reveals what really happened to Violet and he and Sionnan share an intimate moment, after he shows her another secret he’s been keeping.

The moment Hieronymus collapsed, Sionnan cast a shield spell, her heart in her mouth. There was nothing she could do against an army, but she had no intention of letting her husband go without a fight. Violet, or the thing wearing Violet’s face, smiled at her cruelly. “For a pathetic little thing, you have some spirit. But no matter what pretty words he spoke to you, I will always be first in his heart.” Despite knowing that this wasn't true, intellectually, Sionnan still felt a spasm of pain in her chest, and when Violet raised a hand glittering with icy power, she couldn't make herself react. 

**“Enough,”** said a resounding female voice. Queen Aine dropped to the ground in front of Sionnan, and the shield over them strengthened with a surge of power. “I do not know what kind of creature you are, but you are trespassing on my realm and threatening those under my protection. It will not be tolerated.”

Violet sniffed. “Very well. I've learned what I wish to know. Tell Hieronymus I’ll be seeing him sooner than he thinks.” She turned away, and the creatures at her command followed. No one moved until they had passed the boundary of Aine’s lands, but the moment they were out of sight, the queen turned around and started issuing orders.

The world seemed to rush around Sionnan in a blur, and suddenly she was back in the cottage. Queen Aine leaned over her son’s still form in the bed, and when she looked up, her expression was troubled. “He has used his power too freely, but he should recover with rest. I have some things to look into now. You will stay with him?”

“Of course,” Sionnan replied, but her mouth was dry and her throat tight. The Queen put a consoling hand on her shoulder, and then she was gone. 

Sionnan pulled a chair up to the bed. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie beside her husband and feel his heart beating under her palm. But insecurities were tumbling through her mind like clothes in a dryer. What if, despite their soul bond, there was some part of him that still missed Violet? Even after convincing herself that it was unlikely, she was still sure that he would be heartbroken by this discovery. 

She clasped his hand in her own, running her fingers over the familiar calluses, tracing the lines on his palm. His skin was even paler than usual, and even in his youthful, Otherworld form, he appeared to have aged overnight, but the relatively rudimentary Healing magic that Sionnan possessed told her that Queen Aine was right. His pulse was strong, the rise and fall of his chest slow and even. He was exhausted, his mana channels burned by the amount of power he had used in the battle. She had never seen a spell quite like the one that had granted his fiery wings. Even the similar one he had started to cast when rescuing her from Damien had been a mere shadow. She puzzled over it for several minutes before her thoughts turned back to worrying.

Eventually fatigue overcame her, but her dreams were troubled and confusing.

***************************

When Hieronymus opened his eyes, it was to late morning light filtering through the gauzy curtains on the bedroom window of the cottage. He sat up, his mind racing as the events of the previous day rushed through his mind. Violet was… something horrifying had happened to her, and where was Sionnan? Before he could start worrying, he felt her cool hand on his shoulder.

“You're awake,” she said, blinking back the tears gathering on her eyelashes. “Your mother said you were just exhausted from overusing magic, but I couldn’t help worrying.” He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck, breathing her in. His heartbeat slowed as he drank in these physical reassurances that she was alive and well. The situation had turned dire, but he took comfort from the fact that it could have been much worse.

“I am fine, now that I know you're all right,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at her and caressing his thumb over her cheek.

“You're sure?” she asked. He knew she wasn't worried about his physical well-being, but about how he was handling this newest revelation about their enemies. His throat tightened; it was time to stop hiding. The past was a wound that needed to be lanced, he knew, but he couldn’t help being afraid. What if, like disease, the shame and sorrow that had lived within him for years spread to Sionnan? Wouldn't that be a pretty picture, the two of them growing old together in bitterness and misery? Even though their mental shields were not open at the moment, his wife still sensed the turning of his thoughts, and she reached up to touch his face. “Hieronymus, you can talk to me.”

He nodded, but the words wouldn't come. It felt like they were so crowded on his tongue that if he opened his mouth, a flood of nonsense would rush out, but paradoxically his jaw seemed to be wired shut. He blew a breath out his nose and pressed his forehead against hers, nudging wearily against her mind. Even as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she received him into the embrace of her thoughts. _It is time I showed you what happened to Violet,_ he said. _If you're willing. It is not a pretty tale._

 _Of course,_ she replied, pressing a kiss against his cheek. _I've only been waiting for you to be ready._

**********************

He had never let her into his mind this way before, and her heart raced with giddy relief as her thoughts flowed into his. She perceived his inner self as a library, dim and smelling of dust and polished wood. It was so appropriate that she had to stifle a chuckle. Footsteps echoed on the floor to the rhythm of a familiar heartbeat, and she turned. It was strange to see Hieronymus as he saw himself. He was dressed in dark clothing which seemed to shift between his school robes and a long jacket. His face was the same, one moment he appeared much older than he was, and the next he looked to be younger than Sionnan. “Here we are,” he said with a sour twist to his mouth. “I hope it isn't too much of a disappointment.”

“Not at all,” she assured him, grasping his hand. As their fingers intertwined, his features settled into the ones that she woke up next to every morning. “Nothing in your head could change my feelings for you, you know.”

“Awfully bold of you to say when you have no idea what you may find,” he said, but he squeezed her hand, and looked around, considering. “Now that we’re here, I'm not sure where to begin.”

“How did you meet Violet?” she asked. He glanced back at her with raised eyebrows.

“You really want to see that?” She nodded. It might be a bit difficult to watch him happy with someone else, but it was in the past. Her intuition told her that this was an important step, for him and for their lives together, and she guessed that a pleasant memory would be an easier beginning for both of them. He led her toward the back of the library, into a smaller, sunnier room. There was a picture of Violet on the back wall, but it was covered with dust, and ivy was starting to creep over the canvas. Hieronymus looked up at the picture with narrowed-eyes, remembering.

“I was seventeen, attending a boarding school for wizards much like Iris Academy. I'd had an argument with my father, and I wasn't looking forward to going home over summer break. Some of my schoolmates suggested going to a Beltaine celebration down in the village. It was the sort of ‘lower-class’ thing my father had always disdained, so of course, I was eager to go,” he said with a quick smile at his own expense. He pulled a book from one of the shelves, brushing away a cobweb, and when he opened the cover, a memory projected onto the air, playing like a movie. It was Violet, dancing with flowers in her hair, brilliant and beautiful and wild.

“She was the freest person I'd ever met, never caring what anyone thought of her, never finding a rule she was unwilling to break. I was drawn like a moth to a flame.” Sionnan could see why. The fact that she and Violet were so different should have been comforting, but Sionnan felt drab in comparison. 

“So what happened?” she asked, trying not to chew on her lip.

“When I got back to school, I wrote my father to tell him I wouldn't be coming home. Violet and I toured Europe on broomstick, sleeping in youth hostels and doing odd jobs for food. It was nothing like I'd ever experienced before, terrifying, exhilarating, and humbling in equal measure, but by the time September came, I was ready to go back to school. Violet, it turned out, had run away from a prestigious magical university in Dublin, and I tried to persuade her to go back, but she wouldn't have it. So for a few months, I lived a double life, at school during the week and in the village with Violet every weekend. My father found out, of course.”

She winced. “I suppose he was angry.”

“I didn't think so, at first. He wanted to meet her, and invited us to visit for my eighteenth birthday,” Hieronymus said, his expression darkening, “But I should have known it was a trap.” He took her hand again and led her out of the sunny room, and down a dark corridor. The door at the end of the hall was boarded up and bound with chains. He leaned against the doorframe, his hand hovering over the rusted, iron lock. “I've never told anyone what really happened,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know this is difficult, Hieronymus,” she said, pressing herself against his side. “I'll be here no matter what happens, but I want to share this burden with you. Holding all this inside can't be good for your health.”

He let out a strangled snort of laughter. “Living has been bad for my health, of late. But you are right. It is time I stopped dwelling on the past.” The moment his fingers touched the lock, the chains and boards disappeared. “I am not sure what will happen when we open the door. Keep ahold of your center.” She nodded, taking a deep breath, focusing briefly on the connection with her body, and he pushed forward.

Sionnan had a momentary glimpse of a dilapidated bedroom with sharply angled ceilings, and then a dark cloud of memory swallowed her whole.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The voice that seemed to be issuing from her mouth was male, almost familiar. There was a woman in front of her, on the cusp of adulthood, with a cloud of dark hair and eyes alight with mischief. Violet. And of course, Sionnan realized, this memory was from Hieronymus’s point of view, so she was seeing it through his eyes. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Violet replied with a smirk. “Your father disapproves, you tell him to fuck off, and we go back home.”

“I'd rather he not disown own me until after I graduate,” Hieronymus said wryly. His voice was a bit higher and clearer, but now that Sionnan knew it was him, she could hear hints of his adult self. His sense of humor hadn't changed, at least. “I hope you’re right, anyway, but my father has a reputation for being creatively vindictive.”

He grasped the ornate metal knocker and knocked three times. After a few seconds, a uniformed servant open the door, smiling kindly. “Master Hieronymus, we’ve been expecting you. Your father wishes to speak to you in his study, and I am to take Miss Finnegan to the parlor for tea.” 

In the memory, Sionnan could feel her husband's suspicion and unease, and he glanced to Violet. She shrugged, flashing him a confident grin. “Go on. I think I can handle a spot of tea.” He released her hand and watched her walk down the hallway, already chatting easily with the servant.

The memory blurred slightly as he traveled down the familiar corridors of his childhood home, and everything was overshadowed by both his remembered anxiety and the knowledge of what came after. At the top of a wide stairway, there was a door made of black wood which loomed, huge in proportion to the rest of the house. Sionnan braced herself for whatever was about to happened. The door opened just as Hieronymus raised his hand to knock. “My son,” said a deep, rasping voice. “Welcome home.” Everything went black.

Sionnan found herself back in the library inside her husband's mind. He reappeared besides her, his expression haunted. “What happened?” she asked, shaking her head to ease her disorientation.

“The memory has been locked away so long, it overwhelmed us. The moment my past self went unconscious, I was able to regain control, thankfully,” he said, taking her hand again. “Are you all right? The next part is… extremely unpleasant. I would rather not have either of us experience it.”

“I'm fine,” she said, squeezing his fingers in reassurance. “But are you saying your father knocked you out?”

“Yes. It seems that was his plan all along. When I awoke, I was bound both magically and physically in my own room, shielded from view and silenced. Almost before I could get my bearings, the door opened, and I saw myself. My father, wearing my face. And Violet was with him. He locked the door and blasted her with a binding spell. She tried to fight, but he was too powerful.” Sionnan could see where this was going, and she shuddered with horror.

“Why would he do such a horrible thing? Just to torture you, his own son?”

“I cannot guess,” Hieronymus said with shadowed eyes. “He was never an affectionate father, but not purposelessly cruel until that day. Back then, I thought he just wanted to teach me a lesson about defying his wishes, but now, it seems senseless. A disproportionate reaction to teenage rebellion, and one sure to backfire. He is… or was… an intelligent man. It was only the first event in his long decent into madness.” He sighed. “In any case, it didn't get as far as you fear. He did hurt Violet, and said horrible things to her, and all the while she thought it was me. She must have thought I'd gone mad or was under some sort of magical control. Probably it was my father’s plan to make me watch wile he…” Hieronymous paused, swallowing. “But he had pushed me too far…” 

He reached out his hand and a book flew out of the shelves to meet it. The memory that appeared showed the same attic room that had been behind the locked door. Violet was bound to the bed with magic, her eyes wide with terror, tears already streaming down her cheeks. A younger Hieronymus moved into view, already his adult height, but much more gangly, with his hair curling just past his chin. Sionnan knew it wasn’t really him, but even so, she felt it should be obvious. His eyes had a kind of sadistic glee that was very at odds with the man she knew. He held a jeweled dagger in his hands, and he leaned close to Violet to speak something in her ear.

A scream of anguish and rage was followed by a bright flash, and a boom knocked the false Hieronymous to the floor. The point of view shifted rapidly as the real Hieronymus, now free of his bonds, rushed forward. He spared a glance for his father, now lying on the floor and back to his usual appearance, and then he was at Violet’s side, dispelling her bonds with a shaking hand.

“Was that your father?!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. “What in the hell?!”

“I… yes. I’m so sorry, Violet,” he said hoarsely. He reached out to touch her face, and she flinched away. He continued, his voice only wavering slightly. “I don't know why this happened, but we should leave as soon as possible. I'll teleport us back to the village.” Violet nodded without taking her eyes from the man on the floor, and the memory faded.

Back in the library, Sionnan put her hand on her husband’s back. He sighed, wiping his face with one hand and put his other arm around her. “I am all right. It was less difficult than I expected.”

“So what happened after that?” she asked, leaning against his shoulder. Because this was only a constructed image, a product of his mind and hers together, his presence was not as solid and comforting as usual, but it was still reassuring. “Petunia said you went to the Otherworld.”

Hieronymus nodded. “I took her back to the village, just as I promised, and my father did not contact me. But Violet never recovered. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep; she recoiled from every attempt at comfort, understandably. My mother offered to have her in the Summer Court. There are places of safety and peace where time does not pass, and this was where I planned to take Violet. Despite knowing it wasn't safe for two teenagers in the Otherworld, I believed I had everything under control. As you already know, I was incorrect.”

“You were attacked by goblins?” Sionnan prodded. She'd read a bit about them when Potsdam had first told her about Violet, partly because she still sometimes had a difficult time believing that storybook creatures were real, but it seemed they were the offspring of fae and demons, long ago. They were not terribly powerful or intelligent singly, but they bred in great numbers, and that made them dangerous. 

“Yes. My intention was to teleport directly into my mother's domain, just as you and I did. But either I made a mistake in the portal casting, or, as I still believe, control of the gate was wrested from me while we were still inside. When we emerged, we found ourselves in an uncharted part of the Otherworld, similar to where you were pulled in earlier this year. We didn't get far before the goblins found us, and though we managed to fend them off for a while, we were eventually overwhelmed. When I was next conscious, I was in goblin prison, and Violet was dead. Or at least, I thought she was,” he added grimly.

“Was that really her?” Sionnan asked. “I mean, I know it looked like her, but she didn't seem quite… human anymore.”

“It was certainly partly her, but you are right, there was something wrong about her behavior, and she also did not seem wholly alive. Necromancy is highly illegal in the mortal realm, and frowned upon by most of the fae as well. It is not a cheering discovery, for many reasons,” he said, sighing and leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. “Unless you have something else to ask me, I think it is time we returned to our normal awareness.”

********************

Sionnan opened her eyes. They were back in the cottage, and if not for everything she had just experienced, it might have been any morning. Her head was resting on Hieronymus’s chest, and his fingers were running through her hair. She looked up at him, not sure what she would see, and he returned her gaze just as searchingly. “I should have told you long ago, but it seemed to terrible to burden you with. You're sure you're all right?”

She couldn’t make herself lie to him, even though her natural inclination was to ease his mind. “I… will be, I’m sure. It was just a lot to take in.” It was difficult to put her feelings into words. “I’ve always known that you had experiences that I’ll never share, of course, but it’s a bit different to see them for myself.”

He turned to look into her eyes, his expression serious and intent. “I haven’t been as open with you as I should be, as you are with me,” he said, stroking her cheek. “I will… try to be different from now on, but I warn you that sharing my secrets does not come naturally to me.”

“I understand, Hieronymus,” she said, offering the most reassuring smile she could summon. “You’re a private person. I don’t want you to be anyone other than yourself.” Despite everything, she had to remind herself that just sharing those memories had been a huge step forward. What she was feeling now was not only irrational, it was unfair.

“I’m aware of your strange proclivities,” he said with a half-smile, “But you are the person I treasure most in the world. I never want you to have cause to doubt that, no matter what we must face.”

She swallowed. He had seen right into the heart of the matter, and her cheeks flushed with shame. She was jealous, as painful as it was to admit. “I don’t doubt that you love me…”

“Nor have I ever doubted your feelings, but that never kept me from wanting to wring Mr. Ramsey’s scrawny neck,” he replied. “Before he tried to kill us, that is.” A laugh burst from Sionnan’s mouth, no doubt just as he intended, and his face turned serious again. “As unpleasant as they are, such feelings are a natural part of being human. Or fae. If anything, the Sidhe are even more prone to jealousy than people. But I meant what I said. I will do my best to refrain from hiding things from you in the future, and as such I am going to show you something that only one other person has seen.” Her curiosity was piqued, especially when he sat up and started unbuttoning his shirt, but she couldn’t help teasing him.

“Hieronymus, I’ve already seen you naked,” she said, and he snorted.

“You aren’t half as hilarious as you think you are, madam,” he replied without turning around. His shirt slipped to the ground, and he spoke a few words under his breath. Nothing happened, at first, but when the spell finally took effect, Sionnan couldn’t help gasping. His entire back was covered with an intricate tattoo, magical symbols inked right into his flesh, along with other shapes she couldn’t quite place until he raised his arms and she saw the shape of wings trailing down his forearms. It was scales, dragon scales. When she traced her fingers over the marks, she swore she could feel an answering warmth, more than the normal heat of his body. He shivered, but didn’t speak, and she thought about all the times she had touched him without knowing.

“This isn’t just a tattoo, is it? What is it for?” she asked. As he turned, she could see that it covered his chest and stomach; even his forehead and throat were marked with symbols.

“Every teacher at Iris has a job beyond teaching,” he said. “When I took the position, I was aware that this also included becoming the Warden of the campus. This involved a long and complicated ritual that created a bond with a powerful guardian spirit. The tattoo is part of that pact. The only person that has seen it is the person that created it. As you might guess, it was Petunia. Luckily for me, it was a magical process. This would have been much more painful if it had been applied traditionally.”

“So you bonded yourself to a dragon. What does that mean, exactly?” she asked, even if half of her attention was taken up with examining the tattoo itself. It was too fascinating not to touch, and his skin quivered under her fingers, but he didn't otherwise react. He sat down on the bed and she arranged herself in his lap, and began tracing the symbols on his forearms and wrists.

“It is a power I can only fully access when on campus, as this is the… home of the spirit, I suppose. But it grants me more power when accessing certain types of magic in the defense of others. Fire spells mostly, as you might imagine.”

“That’s where the wings came from,” she surmised, and he nodded. 

“In direst need, it is possible for me to make a full transformation, but that would be unthinkably dangerous, both to me, and everyone around me.”

“So if it’s part of your job, why do you keep it a secret?” she asked, running her forefinger over the lines of color that trailed down the bridge of his nose. “Most of the students would be terribly impressed.”

“All of the roles are kept secret, so that anyone thinking to attack the school will have less knowledge to work with. Besides, another part of my job is to scare incoming freshman away from using dangerous magic, and I would hardly be credible while a walking advertisement for extremely inadvisable spellwork,” he said, shaking his head. “Think of what that would do to my reputation, not that it isn’t already in tatters.”

She laughed and kissed him, unable to restrain herself a moment further. “Well, I am impressed, in any case,” she said, and his mouth turned up at the corners as he returned her kiss, his arms moving around her back. It had only been a few hours, less than a full day, since he had last held her like this, but it felt longer, like a homecoming after a protracted absence. It was an embrace of comfort, primarily, but she felt a familiar kind of restlessness rise up within in her. “Does the tattoo go everywhere?” she asked in mock-innocence.

His cheeks flushed. “Not _everywhere_ , no. There would hardly be a point,” he huffed. She laughed low in her throat and slid her hands down his stomach, tracing the runes written above his navel. He shivered again, his fingers flexing against her back.

“I’d like to to see the rest of it,” she said. In his eyes was a reflection of the same need that she felt, and the relief that it was returned. 

“As if I could refuse,” he said roughly. Removing their clothes was like a ritual of touch and whisper, the sound of fabric swishing over skin and the hums and sighs of contentment. Sionnan found that though the tattoo was not as extensive over his lower body, lines of power were inked over his hips and down his thighs and calves, following the bones and muscles and ornamented with more runes and sigils. She pushed him back on the bed so she could trace them all with her fingers, and he chuckled. “I never expected you to be so interested.”

“I'm interested in everything concerning you, Hieronymus,” she said, kissing a star-shaped conjunction of lines on the inside of his knee. “But in this case, it's just an excuse for me to pay special attention to you. You're usually so busy touching and kissing me everywhere that I never get to return the favor.”

“You're far too clever for your own good,” he replied, but the complaint was somewhat spoiled by his gasp when she scraped her nails lightly down his thighs.

“You see, I would have never known that you liked that if you don't let me experiment,” she said, kneeling between his legs with a playful grin. “Now, be still.”

“As you wish,” he said, his voice ragged. He moved his hands over his head and gripped the headboard lightly, a signal that he would not interfere. The day’s events had brought a sort of reckless boldness to the forefront and having him submit so easily only added fuel to this fire. There was something she had wanted to do for him that she had previously been too nervous to try, but now…

“What about this?” She grasped his erection lightly in her fingertips, trailing them upward to the tip. Her husband let out a strangled gasping noise, and she hummed with approval. Then she lowered her head, letting her breath spill over him. 

“By all the gods,” he hissed, and his muscles quaked under her fingers as they traced the arcane sigils on his stomach. She took him into her mouth, circling the delicate, slightly salty skin with her tongue. He moaned, and his fingers buried themselves in her hair as his body shuddered. She sucked him gently, not entirely sure what she was doing but determined to give it a good effort anyway. Hieronymus’s back arched and his thumbs skimmed her cheeks as his hand moved to her shoulders.

“Sionnan, please,” he begged. She knew what he wanted, and she was happy to oblige, although she might have moved a bit more slowly than he wanted, kissing his stomach and then his chest as she crawled up his body. He surged upward to capture her face in his hands, kissing her more fiercely than ever before. “You’ll be the death of me, vixen,” he breathed into her mouth.

“Weren't you enjoying yourself?” she asked, grinning.

“So much so it wouldn't have lasted very long,” he said, his eyes aglow with passion. “I want to feel you, my love. I want to look into your eyes when we crest this peak together.” 

There was no way she could resist. She braced her palms against his chest and rose just enough to sink down onto him, sighing as he filled her. “Look at you,” he murmured, his expression unabashedly reverent. “The loveliest creature I've ever beheld.”

She laughed low in her throat and rolled her hips slowly forward. The extra friction was unexpected, and a gasp of pleasure burst from her mouth. She moved again, faster, and this time he matched her, grasping her hips as they found a rhythm. Even after a month as lovers, they were still discovering how to be together, but this was perfect. Every movement sent pulses of bliss all the way to her toes, and the world contracted to nothing but sensation and connection. Their eyes locked as he thrusted into her one final time, and she was lost, spiraling into ecstasy even as she felt his mind flow into hers, a flood of love and need and pleasure. 

When the storm faded, he held her against his chest, his panting breaths stirring her hair, their hearts racing in tandem. When he finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper, his lips brushing her forehead. “What could I have ever done to deserve you?”

“Love isn't about deserving, Hieronymus; it just is,” she said, smiling up at him. “But I can’t imagine what you think you might have done to not deserve it.”

“I could make a list, but even so, I doubt you would be convinced. A fact for which I am grateful,” he said, sighing and kissing her forehead. His arms were warm around her, and she was safe and loved. It didn't take long for exhaustion to claim her.

************************

Queen Aine summoned them the next morning to the lesser audience chamber. Hieronymus had recast the glamor covering his tattoos. Though they gave him a pleasingly wild air, it was also somewhat of a relief to see his features returned to relative normalcy. Part of her wondered if she’d miss his fae appearance when they returned home, but on consideration, she decided she would not. The appearance he showed to the world was one he had chosen, after all, and it didn’t change who he was.

His mother received them warmly, providing a comfortable settee and a light breakfast, but once they were seated, she got right to business. 

“I am relieved to see you both recovered, of course, but I'm afraid we have serious matters to discuss.”

“Did you discover anything about Violet’s connection to the Court of Ice?” Hieronymus asked, his expression grim. Sionnan squeezed his hand. Even sharing the burden, this was likely to get harder before it got easier. 

“I made some inquiries, though there was little I could discover on short notice,” the Queen replied. “As you know, the Court has been mostly dormant since your father helped me to depose their mad king. They've been too busy fighting amongst themselves to pose any kind of serious threat since then. Violet rose to power fairly quickly, with the backing of a major faction from Hel, as you suspected, but where she came from originally, my sources either do not know or are too frightened to reveal.”

“I had always wondered how on earth your parents managed to meet,” Sionnan said. Hieronymus snorted, and Queen Aine pursed her lips.

“Unlikely as it may seem at present, Aloysius Grabiner was once a man to be admired. Intelligent, charming, and a powerful wizard. He was investigating strange happenings within the Court of Ice for the Wizard Council, and after my father was killed by an assassin sent by their King, we made an alliance. We were lovers, but of course, it was understood to be temporary. We each had our own lives and plans, and our relationship was not one that was lasting enough to diverge from our intended paths. But Hieronymus was a very much wanted child,” she added with a gentle smile. “I would have raised him here, but I thought the mortal world would be safer. Now, of course, I regret that decision.”

Her son lowered his head, his cheeks reddening. “You couldn't have known. Father had everyone fooled,” he said, “But let us return to the matter at hand. There has to be some reason for all of these forces to suddenly be arrayed against us. This was no random attack, but something that took years of planning.”

“I'm afraid that this is that matter at hand,” Queen Aine said, her eyes soft but her voice steely. “The fact that it was Violet that someone chose to resurrect means that this was a personal attack against you, Hieronymus. And there are very few people in the world who know how much that would hurt you, or perhaps how much it would once have, and even fewer with the means and the motivation to do such a thing. There is only one person who has time and time again tried to harm you through those you love.”

“My father, of course,” he replied, blowing a sharp breath out of his nose. “But this cannot be only about me. Why would he go to such effort, and yet still not act directly? He hasn't even disinherited me, which you would think would be a logical first step.”

“I think that is something you will have to ask him yourself,” Queen Aine said. “And I suggest that you do not delay. Whatever his aims, it is clear that he is ready to put his plans into motion.”

Hieronymus swallowed. “We will leave tomorrow.”

************************

They walked out of the palace hand in hand, but Hieronymus was quiet, perhaps understandably lost in his own thoughts. “So we’re going right to England?” Sionnan ask as they started up the winding path that led up the hill to the guest cottage where they'd been staying for nearly a month. 

He squeezed her hand. “No. Even with my mother’s warning, I think it would be wise to exercise caution. Unless you have objections, there are a few preparations I would like to make at home before we depart. I doubt you have a passport, for one thing, and there are some extra protections I would like for us to practice.”

She nodded. After learning what had truly happened to Violet, she understood his reticence. “I'm just glad you don't intend to leave me at home.”

“I might have once been tempted to do so,” he admitted. “It would be safer, for you. But even if the soul bond wouldn’t make that uncomfortable, I would not. I promised you that we would be partners from now on, and there is no one I would rather have by my side.”

“You're very romantic today,” she said, smiling up at him. He gathered her against his chest.

“I do try, on occasion,” he answered. He kissed her, once, tender and full of devotion, and then they went inside to pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize it has been over a year since I updated this beast, so if you’re still reading, I apologize. I’ve had a lot of life changes, bought a house, wrote the first draft of an original novel (which you can check out some of if you go to my tumblr dragynfox and search for silver and thorn.) Some plot elements from here have been folded into that work which is a retelling of beauty and the beast with a vampire. Anyway, I love this story so thank you for reading, and here’s to hoping I finish it before I die. XD

**Author's Note:**

> I probably would not have written for this fandom, except I read the amazing fanfiction http://archiveofourown.org/works/852453  
> Pentagrams and Pomegrantes which made me want to take a similar idea in a different direction. So you should read that thing.
> 
> I don't know how quick updates will be, since I actually get paid to write other things, and I already have a pile of unfinished works, but I hope you like it anyway. Its been burning a hole in my skull.
> 
> Also I'm slowly building a spotify playlist for this, which you can find here.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/mizukitsune-us/playlist/3NkOVOYk6pjGzb4wTI61hq


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